The Devil Took His Time
by The Mind Of The Dragon
Summary: *COMPLETE* The stress of living near his father has taken its toll on Brendan and he sees a new threat towards Steven. Throw into the mix a mysterious stranger who delivers a sinister message, Brendan decides it is time to act. But his need to protect Steven and get as far from Hollyoaks as he can, leads to a situation that even he could never have conceived. Leave a comment!
1. Chapter 1: The Attempt at Escape

Whenever he looked at the face of the man who had abused him as a child, Brendan would feel his body betray him and react in the same way it always did in his fathers presence. His muscles would stiffen into a posture of submissive defeat, his head would drop keeping his eyes averted and he hated himself for the reaction. It was a testament to the abuse his father dealt him that he still reacted in this manner whenever the man was near. Since he had turned up at Brendan's door a couple of weeks ago, Seamus Brady had continued his abuse in the form of quiet innuendos and whispered remarks uttered for his sons ears only. Even the way in which his father changed his name to the female derivative, said purely to negate his manhood in cruel taunting, left Brendan cold and desperate inside.

Those dark eyes still had a way of making his guts all but twist themselves within him. Forced to play nice with Chez always obliviously looking on, he shook hands, he smiled, he even went so far as to occasionally speak to the man who made his life a living hell. Then the remarks started, not the ones against himself as they had never stopped, but against Steven. He even had the audacity to call him Stephanie once to which Steven had laughed, clearly not understanding the intended jibe. Whenever his father looked at Steven, he saw something in his eyes that made Brendan's skin crawl and his blood run cold. Brendan's mind and body were in utter turmoil; his body ached with the tension and his thoughts were never far away from the darkness he had once fallen into. Then Steven began to mention the stranger who seemed to be lurking around the town.

"This guy has been hanging round for days all shady like, wearing these dark glasses in the rain like some weirdo. Dunno who he is but he gives me the right creeps he does."

Brendan had just shrugged his shoulders at first, sure it was nothing. But Steven kept bringing it up, sounding a little more troubled each time he did.

"Remember that guy I told you about with the glasses? Well I was walking down the alley and he came running up behind then shoved me into the wall! Gave me a right fright an all, not even a sorreh. I thought I recognised him then, but I don't think I do actually." He had smiled as if it didn't mean anything but Brendan could tell it had unnerved him.

It had unnerved Brendan too; he saw everything in the village, he made it a point to know everyone and everything about the village. So why had he not seen this mysterious man? And why was he so interested in Steven?

"Had a visit at the deli from that bloke again today. He were real edgy like, kept on staring at me until I said, are you gonna order or what? He just shook his head then came right up to counter and gave me this." He handed Brendan a crumpled piece of paper with a familiar scrawl written on it that made his heart freeze.

_The injury that is to be done to a man ought to be of such a kind that one does not stand in fear of revenge.*_

"What does it even mean Brendan?"

He could not lift his eyes from the paper that had made the blood in his veins turn as if to ice. He knew those words, he had heard them before but where he could not remember.

"Bren? What does it mean?" He heard the quiver in Steven's voice and it tore his gaze from the damned note to look into the scared eyes of his lover.

"Nothing Steven, it means nothing." He said, crumpling the note into a ball before hurling it across the room into the bin. He had spent that night awake in the darkness as Steven snuggled into him, his soft snoring the only comfort Brendan's tired mind had as he tried to remember where he had heard the words written in the note. They danced lazily in his tired mind, their meaning and origin elusive. His eyes had drooped as Steven's snoring lulled him to sleep, only to snap wide open as realisation hit him. Those words, he had heard them in the car on route to Sampson's the day that he and Walker had beat up Casper to avenge Joel.

"I read once, that the injury that is to be done to a man should be of such a kind that you do not stand in fear of revenge. Are you really ready to wreak such vengeance Brendan?"

His reply had been a sneer drawn towards Walker and a tightening of his hands on the steering wheel. He lay in the darkness, one arm pinned beneath Steven's neck who slept on unaware of the fact that Brendan's heart was threatening to burst in his chest. He spent the rest of the night trying to think of ways to get Steven and the kids to safety before his tired and worrying mind closed down in unexpected but welcomed sleep.

It was with perfect timing that Amy called two days later to announce her imminent arrival back to Hollyoaks for a short holiday, wanting to take the children away for a few days. As a result, Brendan had jumped at the chance to get himself and Steven out of Hollyoaks and as far away from his father and Walker's grasp as he possible could take them.

These are the reasons that he finds himself sitting in the car as the rain pours from the heavens while he waits on Steven. Despite being packed and ready to go an hour ago, they had yet to leave the village, having already stopped twice. Steven had forgotten a bag and then, after managing to reach the end of the road, he had began to worry that he had left the door unlocked, prompting Brendan to turn the car back around to go and check.

Now he was waiting outside the corner shop on the outskirts of the village as Steven had wanted to get some food for the journey. Drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, he watched as the lithe young man flashed one of his charming smiles at the cashier before heading back to the car. He rarely took his eyes off Steven these days, often feeling more like an over protective father than a lover.

"Right! That's us now!" Steven said as he threw a bag of goodies into the back seat then pulled on his seatbelt.

"You sure now Steven?"

He merely stuck his tongue out at him then opened a bottle of juice.

"This is gonna be dead good, innit? Me and you, off on an adventure." He opened his arms in a grand gesture that made Brendan smile as he put the car into gear and finally start their journey. "Wont be as good as Dublin though, eh? Like, nothing will top Dublin." He said with a sly grin.

"Yeah, nothing will top Dublin, Steven. Ever." He replied as the warm memories of their reunion flooded his mind.

"So, where we going anyways?"

"North."

"North? Come on Bren, where North?"

_As far North as I can drive_, Brendan thought.

"Are we going to Scotland? Like, all the way North?"

The lad was not stupid, but then, Brendan already knew that. He had seen the bright intelligence that Steven often hid from others, he was nobody's fool.

"A little town outside Glasgow, how does that sound?"

"Oh that's dead cool! Never been to Scotland me, well, not on holiday anyway."

The excited smile that flashed on Steven's face made Brendan forget his worries and smile with him. He never understood why Steven wanted to be with him, nor how the lad always managed to smile no matter what he was doing, but that was one of the reasons that he loved him so; he brought light into Brendan's darkened soul.

"Wait a minute, are we going to Joel's place?" An edge of disappointment tinged his voice.

"Aye Joel's place." He replied grumpily, wondering not for the first time if this was a good idea. Joel had a flat back home that he had offered to Brendan to get away for a while. It seemed the perfect place to hide while he worked things out in his mind, but by the look on Steven's face, it was anything but a good idea.

Steven stared out of the window at the passing scenery, quiet in thought for long moments. Then he sighed and looked back at Brendan with a smile returning to his lips and a new enthusiasm plain on his face.

"It'll still be good, eh? Don't matter where we stay as long as we're together."

God he loved the lad, he always tried to see the positive in everything.

"Course it will, it would be good no matter where we go." He replied.

"Oh I love this song!" Steven exclaimed suddenly and turned the radio up loud.

Steven sang along to the music that blared from the radio, but despite his rapidly building headache, Brendan enjoyed the sound of his lover's voice. Even though he struggled to reach the high notes, Steven sang with a passion evident in every croaked note. He laughed when Steven's voice squeaked on a high note, making the lad shoot a look of annoyance at him, continuing to sing on regardless.

Brendan shook his head amused, his eyes flicking to check the rear view mirror only to see a dark blue Peugeot speeding up to sit dangerously close on their tail. He kept his eye on the car as it gunned back and forth behind as if wishing to overtake them but unable to on the twisting stretch of road. Steven sang on, unaware of Brendan's sudden tenseness as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, making his knuckles turn white. It was an automatic response, ingrained in him from years of dealing with less than savoury individuals, a reflex that he would likely never lose. He remembered his father and the mysterious stranger that had given Steven the note and wondered if the car behind had anything to do with either of them. It took him some time to realise that Steven had stopped singing, had turned the radio down and was speaking to him.

"Brendan?" He said insistently.

"What?"

"I said, can we stop soon? I really need to, you know? Too much juice I reckon."

"Jesus Steven, are we gonna stop every ten miles?" He replied irritated.

"Am sorreh right, but I reeeeeealy need to go!"

"Christ, you're worse than the kids, yeh know that don't yeh?"

"Yeah, but you love me for it, eh? Eh?" Ste said as he stared at him cheekily.

He couldn't help but roll his eyes and smile, Steven had him wrapped around his fingers.

"Aye, I do that." He replied. "There's a place a few miles up the road."

He lessened his grip on the wheel, trying to relax and forget about the car behind that had fallen into a steady pace a few car lengths back. The sky was starting to darken, forcing him to put on the cars dipped beams as they travelled along in a comfortable silence which was only broken by the now low sound of the radio. After a short while Brendan heard snoring, looked to find that Steven had fallen asleep, his urgent body function temporarily forgotten. He checked the road ahead then dared another long look towards Steven, his heart rate increasing at the sight of him. Christ he was beautiful, his soft lips slightly parted, his chest rising and falling lazily with every breath that blew out of that kissable mouth. Brendan just wanted to pull the car over and join him, but they would never get to their destination if he did. He marvelled at the fact the lad could sleep almost anywhere; Brendan never could relax enough to fall asleep in a vehicle. Steven moaned softly in his sleep, making Brendan's stomach tighten with longing, only for the moment to be broken when the car hit a bump in the road and waken him with a start. He looked around with glazed confused eyes, bewildered until he remembered where he was.

"Are we there yet?"

"Yer kidding right? We've only done sixty miles."

"Petrol station." He said, pointing through the window to the rest stop ahead.

Brendan cursed under his breath as he put on the indicator and pulled into the rest stop. Steven was already opening the door as the car came to a halt in the empty car park. The rest stop was merely a petrol station with a small shop and café combined, but it was sufficient to their needs.

"I'll not be a minute!" Steven said hurriedly as he slammed the car door shut and ran towards the building.

"That'll be the door shut then!" Brendan shouted, but Steven only raised a hand in reply and disappeared inside the building.

Watching the traffic passing by, he leaned his arms over the steering wheel and rested his chin on them. At the rate they were going, he was sure it would be tomorrow before they even reached the Borders never mind Glasgow. He closed his eyes and buried his face into the freshly laundered cloth of his sleeves, hoping that Steven wouldn't be too long. His headache was in full force now and his head felt so heavy that he didn't even bother to look up when he heard a car pass close to him.

It was the sound of rubber tyres screeching and kicking up loose stones on the road that woke him. He looked at the clock to find that he had been asleep for twenty five minutes and he wiped the drool from his mouth as he blinked his eyes clear of sleep. Looking towards the shop, he wondered what the hell was keeping Steven, waited another couple of minutes before sighing then got out of the car. His cramped legs groaned as he stretched them out while looking around the place. Shaking his head he made his way into the building, feeling the tension from earlier returning. A quick look around the store told him that Steven was not there so he made his way to the café area and checked the toilets, only to find them empty. Puzzled, he approached the woman who sat behind the cash desk near the main door. She was working on a crossword puzzle and didn't even lift her head when she asked "Can I help you?" all the while drumming her black ball point pen on the desk.

"The man who came in to use the toilet, have you seen him?"

The woman finally raised her head from the crossword to look at him, the pen continuing to tap a beat annoyingly.

"Ah yeah, tall, blonde, skinny thing?" She asked bored, "He left."

Brendan looked out of the window towards the car, but Steven was nowhere to be seen.

"What do you mean left?" He said turning back to the woman.

"I dunno love, he left with another man about twenty minutes ago."

Brendan's heart froze, his eyes widening as the hands at his sides clenched into tight fists. "What man?"

"Umm, tall and fit." She said with a wink and a wry smile. "Longish light brown hair. Cute."

The world tilted around him and as his frozen heart began pounding in his chest, his stomach clenched in the uneasy sickening feeling that comes with a shock. He thanked the woman dazedly then turned to leave, not even getting to the door when his phone sounded, signaling a text message.

_End game starts now._

He ran out of the shop, tripping over the advertisement sign that was propped just outside of the door. He found his footing and ran to the car then dialled the number that had sent the text, his eyes scouring the surrounding area for any sign of either man. His call was answered but he heard only silence on the other end.

"Where is he? What the fuck have you done to him Walker?" He growled.

A laugh from the other side of the line confirmed his suspicions, he would never forget that laugh.

"I told you Brendan, you would pay one day or another."

"If you harm a single…"

"You'll what? What will you do Brendan?"

"I'll kill yeh."

"Yeah, yeah," Walker made an over exaggerated yawning sound. "Forgive me if I take that as an idle threat Brendan, I've heard it before. Ste is safe for now, aren't you Ste?"

Brendan heard a sniff and a small whimpering voice pleading as Walker put his phone on speaker.

"Please Simon, please just…just let me go." Brendan's throat constricted, Christ, the lad sounded terrified and there was nothing he could do to help him. "Please, Simon…" Steven fell silent, and Brendan could almost see Walker placing a quieting finger to his own lips.

"Like I said before, it was always going to be him Brendan, the knife to your heart. But he will be safe until you get here at least. Get in the car and make your way back towards Hollyoaks. Go to the industrial estate. We will be waiting."

The line went dead and he stood for a moment with the dead phone to his ear, his breaths coming in huge panicked gulps.

"FUCK!" he roared as he wrenched open the car door and jumped hastily inside.

Why? Why had he fallen asleep? Anger coursed through his body as he gunned the engine and screeched out of the car park back towards home. The journey was filled with curses and the violent hitting of the steering wheel as adrenaline fuelled anger began to slowly replace his initial shock. Time seemed to slow and no matter how fast he drove the car, it never felt fast enough even though the engine screamed towards its upper limits. He made it back to Hollyoaks in just under an hour, less time than it had taken to leave. He knew the industrial estate that Walker was talking about, he had utilised the abandoned site over the years with one dodgy deal or another.

Barely slowing as he turned into the estate, his wheel clipped the kerb, making the car bounce but he did not bat an eyelid. His eyes scoured the empty buildings for any sign of Walker or Steven. He sped along the road, dangerously skirting a mini roundabout over which the car bounced with stomach churning violence. As he fought to control the car, he saw a movement as he passed another intersection, a fleeting impression of speed and aggression. He looked towards the movement and his eyes opened wide in horror as he watched the large blue Peugeot from earlier speed purposely towards him.

The impact from the combined speed of both cars sent his car into a sickening flip. His car struck the ground in the first of three spins and Brendan's body twisted in the seat with the force of inertia, his head smashing through the door window in an explosion of glass and blood. The structure around him crushed inwards as it hit the ground for the third and final time to come to a halt on its roof.

The car rocked gently back and forth before falling still, then there was nothing but a mangled wreck and silence. The violence had ended, but Brendan was unaware of this as he had long since been pulled into the darkness of unconsciousness.

TBC...

Comments are cookies for the Dragon's soul, feed me!

_*From The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli_


	2. Chapter 2: Enter the Madman

_**A big thank you to all who commented on the first chapter, especially to those who I can not reply to. I am glad that you liked it and hope that this chapter satisfies until the next :D**_

It felt good to stretch his legs and Ste took his time to wander around the shop with no great hurry to return to the car. Heading towards the cooler, he suddenly experienced the unsettling feeling of someone watching him, but shrugged it off as likely being the woman behind the cash desk keeping an eye on him. He took his time to decide what he wanted then grabbed a fresh bottle of juice from the cooler cabinet. As he closed the door he saw a man leaning against the wall next to the cooler, immediately recognizing him, the shock of which was like a punch to the guts and he gasped audibly.

"Hello Steven." Walker said his name with a sneer that made him swallow hard then quickly look out of the window towards Brendan's car.

"Oh I wouldn't bother looking to him for help. You see, you and I, have some business of our own."

"I dunt want any trouble Simon." He managed to say, the croak in his voice betraying how utterly terrified he was. Walker moved closer until he was mere inches from him, which made his body shake as uncontrollably as the day the man had held a gun pointed directly at Ste's face. Walker took the bottle from his hand and placed it back into the cooler then took Ste's arm in a tight controlling grip, pulling him closer.

"Stay quiet, remain calm and there wont be any trouble, ok?" He nodded his head then Walker guided him firmly from the shop, passing the cashier who barely raised her eyes towards them.

Once outside, Ste's eyes strayed towards the parked Mercedes sitting silently and alone in the car park. He felt Walker squeeze his arm painfully hard in warning not to make a sound and continue to guide him towards the blue Peugeot parked hidden in shadow at the side of the shop. Ste could only just make out the sleeping form of Brendan through the window as he was steered away, and he realised with a sinking feeling that he was completely unaware of what was happening and that he was on his own. As they drew closer to the Peugeot he nearly choked on the panic that overcame him so he struggled and managed to pull free of Walkers grasp and ran towards Brendan. He opened his mouth to shout only to be silenced by a brutal blow to the back of his head that turned his legs to jelly and scattered his thoughts. He was aware of being caught in strong arms and held upright, then his arm was thrown over Walkers shoulder who then walked him like a drunk the remaining distance to the car. Thrown roughly, he landed face down on a musty, cigarette smelling seat as his body flopped like a rag doll into the car. He was vaguely aware of his legs being lifted as his eyes flickered closed and he passed out.

He woke up some time later to the pain of a blinding headache and to the sound of mumbled voices. He could hardly open his eyes and in an attempt to rub them, found that his hands were securely bound behind his back and a seatbelt strapped across his chest. He fought through the painful fog that clouded his mind until he remembered Walker and he snapped wide awake. He noted that he was in a different car now; a newer and much cleaner one. He also saw that they were parked in the shadow of a factory in the industrial estate just outside of Hollyoaks. It was eerily quiet. Unused and abandoned for some years and in an glaringly obvious state of disrepair, the estate was considered by most as being long over due for demolishing. No one ever came up here, not even the teenagers who once thought of it as their personal playground. Empty and deserted, it proved to be the perfect place to lure Brendan.

Someone in front cleared their throat and he looked up to see Walker staring at him from the rear view mirror as the other man got out and lit a cigarette.

"Ste mate, you're awake and just in time for the show." Walker said.

"I'm not your mate." He replied with distaste which made Walker laugh. He sighed then turned to face Ste, his eyes at once hateful and yet compassionate.

"I'm not your enemy Ste, I never was. You and I share the same enemy, Brendan Brady." Ste shook his head vigorously to which Walker frowned. "He is caustic to everything and everyone around him. Whatever he touches withers and dies and you, well, you don't even have the decency to acknowledge that. Or is it that you do not even realise it?"

"He's not like that anymore, right? He's changed! I know he's dead sorreh for what happened to your brother!"

Walker stared at him with a curious look upon his face, then looked down towards his hand which toyed with a frayed edge on the arm of his jacket.

"I doubt he's as sorry as he will be." He said quietly. "By the time I am finished with him, he will be as 'dead sorreh' as my brother is." he mocked, raising his head. "And perhaps, it seems, you will be too."

Walker pulled his mobile from his pocket as the front passenger door was opened by the stranger that had given Ste the note, bringing with him the heavy stench of cigarette smoke.

"You ready?" Walker asked, to which the man replied with a nod. "Don't fuck this up Jason, we only get one shot."

Walker typed on his phone then gave Jason a meaningful nod which he returned and closed the door. Jason made his way towards the beat up Peugeot then drove it through the intersection to the other side of the road where he parked in darkness. Rolling his mobile in his hand, Walker looked back to Ste with what almost appeared to be a look of sadness.

"I never wanted to involve you Steven, I don't want to be a monster in this game. But unfortunately the rules changed when my brother Cam died, and it forced me to become as big as, if not a bigger monster than Brendan. I feel I must apologise now for anything that may happen to you in the course of events, and believe me when I say sorry, as I truly mean it."

"Are...are you gonna kill me?" Ste felt tears well up in his eyes as his throat tightened painfully around the words.

"Should it come to it, yes. You see, Brendan has survived being beat up, blown up, hell you brained him with a baseball bat and yet, the only thing that I am sure will be the death of Brendan Brady, is you. But, he has to suffer before his dies, and in that suffering you will play a major role, So I'm afraid it doesn't look very good for you." He then smiled maliciously, his grin sending chills down Ste's spine. His reaction to Walker confused and surprised him; he never thought that he would react in such a manner just by being in the presence of someone. It made him wonder if this was what Brendan felt like when he was in the presence of his father and the thought made him desperately sad. Walker looked every inch a mad man, capable of anything and it terrified him more than having a gun pointed at his head. He knew by that evil grin, that he would indeed die at this mans hands.

His tears were flowing freely now, not only for the fact that his death appeared to be close at hand, but for the fact that his death would be used against the one man on this Earth that meant more to him than his own life. Ste cried for Brendan and the fact that he would return to try and save him and walk straight into the trap that Walker had set. He cried at how cruel it was that he had only just found Brendan, the real Brendan, only to lose him again so soon and with enjoying so little time together before they were permanently torn apart. So overcome with sorrow was he that he never heard Walker's mobile phone ring nor any of the words that he spoke to the person on the other end. He felt a touch on his shoulder and looked to see Walker leaning over his seat, holding his mobile phone inches from his face. He ignored the phone and stared at Walker with large and pleading tear filled eyes.

"Please Simon, please just…just let me go." He sobbed quietly, terrified of the man who stared at him without compassion. "Please, Simon…"

Walker placed a silencing finger to his lips and Ste dropped his head in defeat then sobbed until he fell into an uneasy sleep.

o0o0o0o

His head ached and his neck hurt. Dried tears made his face feel tight and his eyes felt swollen and sore. He lifted his heavy head, grimacing as his neck cracked loudly. He shifted his body to ease the pressure off his aching arms then wished he hadn't bothered when pins and needles blossomed in them from his efforts. Walker's eyes flicked to look at him through the rear view mirror but he said nothing and looked forward again.

He followed Walkers gaze and saw the Peugeot parked further along the road, a tiny orange glow brightening and dimming in the darkness of the cars interior as Jason drew on another cigarette. A glint of light from the main road pulled his eyes from Jason's car, his stomach clenched when he saw it was headlights and knew that it was Brendan.

"Simon you don't need to do this! Please!" He cried as he tried to pull is hands free of their bonds, managing only to make the plastic ties that held them bite into his skin. Walker ignored him and leaned forward in his seat, eagerly watching the lights as they approached the turn off for the estate. When the car threw itself around the entry corner, it confirmed who the driver was and Walker started the engine of his car, keeping the car in darkness so as to not alert Brendan to their presence. He watched with a gleeful smile as Brendan drew closer to the ambush, hurtling over a mini roundabout as if it didn't exist.

If he could have ran out of the car screaming and jumping to warn Brendan of the trap, he would have. But Ste could only watch helplessly as the Peugeot burst into life and begin to speed crazily towards the hurtling Mercedes. But it soon became apparent that something was evidently wrong as Walker suddenly became agitated, shouting and gesturing futilely towards the scene that was unfolding in front of their eyes.

"No! No! What are you doing?!"

They both watched with horror as the Peugeot slammed into the side of the Mercedes, forcing it into a violent and morbidly fascinating flip.

"No!" Walker roared as Ste screamed, both men unable to tear their eyes from the Mercedes as it flipped and rolled violently, filling the night with noises of breaking glass and shrieking metal until it came to a rest on its roof some meters down the road. They stared at the carnage before them, not quite believing what they had just witnessed.

Although the Peugeot was relatively intact, the Mercedes was almost unrecognizable; no more than a mass of crushed metal and smashed windows. The boot had popped during the crash and Ste saw their belongings strewn across the road, a stab of grief bursting in his chest when his eyes fell upon the Prague coat that Brendan had worn in Dublin, the coat that he adamantly refused to get rid of.

Walker threw his door open and ran towards the crash site as Jason toppled out of his car onto the ground, coughing and groaning in pain. Ste could hear them through the open door as a coldness filled his body which had nothing to do with the chill of the night air that rushed into the car.

"Jason? Jason?!"

"I'm alright, I think."

"Are you hurt? Fuck sake Jason, what the hell were you thinking?!"

"Damned throttle jammed on, I told you this car was a piece of shit! I've been fighting the damned thing all day or did you not notice me fighting to control it earlier when we were following these two?" Jason said as he wiped the blood that dripped from his broken nose.

"Jesus Jason, I need him alive."

"Shut up Sime, maybe this is the best way. He deserves it after what he did to Cam anyway."

"He deserves more, which is why I need him alive." Walker said through gritted teeth as he inspected Jason for injuries.

"What do we do now? Torch the car?"

Walker seemed to consider this for a moment and was obviously torn between leaving Brendan to die and wanting him to live so that he could quench his thirst for revenge.

"No, we continue with the plan. We just need to take it elsewhere."

Ste heard their feet crunching on the broken glass that was strewn over the road like many glittering diamonds. As they approached the drivers door, Ste's eyes noticed something hanging in the window that made his stomach churn. It was Brendan's arm, torn and bloody, hanging down through the broken window like a piece of scrap meat. Bile rose in his throat and he fought the urge to vomit even though his stomach seemed intent on it. He struggled frantically against the plastic ties that bound his hands, small grunts of exertion escaping his wrists as he fought to be free and go to Brendan's aid. He felt his fingers run slick having cut his wrists in his struggle and so he stopped his struggle and looked towards the others. Holding his breath, he watched as Walker place a hand on Brendan's wrist, only breathing again when the man nodded his head and both he and Jason worked the unconscious man from the crushed car.

With little regard for his injuries, they dragged Brendan unceremoniously from the wreck and back towards Walker's car, his head hanging low to the ground dripping droplets of blood on the asphalt. Jason pulled the back door open and they manhandled Brendan's lifeless body onto the seat next to Ste. When the door was slammed shut, he began to slowly fall sideways until he came to a rest against Ste's shoulder. Twisting in order to look at him better, Ste's eyes widened in horror when he saw the blood that covered the right side of his face.

"Brendan?" His shaky voice was barely a whisper, and he knew that even if it had been louder, Brendan would never have heard anyway. "Bren?"

Walker started the car and drove with speed from the industrial estate, angry with Jason and the botched trap.

"Just toss him out Sime, leave him somewhere and get the hell away."

"No, he needs to pay!"

"And he will! Look at the state of him!"

"No Jason, he has to _pay_. We take him with us."

As the two men continued to discuss their next move, Ste was getting increasingly worried about Brendan's condition as he heard a strange wheeze when he breathed. His shoulder was warm and wet and he knew without a doubt that it was Brendan's blood that soaked through his clothes onto his skin. As the car turned a corner, Brendan's head shifted and dropped forward, and Ste could see the large ragged gash that cut deep into his hair line, oozing blood into the dark hair and down onto his clothes.

"Stop the car! Please! We gotta get him to hospital!" His pleading went ignored as the car continued to hurtle along the road. "He's dying you bastard!"

"And? What, you think I give a damn Steven?" Walker said, his cold eyes flicking to the mirror for a second.

"You need him alive! Like, you said so yourself!" He cried desperately. "You need him alive so you can make...make him watch me die."

The words seemed to strike a chord as Walker slowed the car, pulled to the side of the road and stopped. Opening the door, he reached in and grabbed a handful of Brendan's hair and turned his head to inspect the wound, staring with fascination at the ragged tear. He dropped the head and grabbed Ste and pulled him forward in the seat then began fumbling at his back.

"You've made a right mess of your hands mate." He said as he cut the plastic ties with a pocket knife then reached into the door and pulled a cloth from the pocket. "It's a head wound Steven, they always bleed bad. Here," He pressed the cloth to the wound, took Ste's hand and replaced his. "Hold it tight, it will stop eventually." The callousness of Walker's words made Ste quake. He was so far over the edge that he could no longer see reality, Ste saw that now.

Wincing at the stiffness in his limbs from being bound, Ste tried not to think of the state his wrists were in. Now that his hands were free, he used them to pull Brendan onto his side and into his lap securely, which eased his breathing somewhat. With a trembling hand, he gently wiped the matted hair and blood from Brendan's forehead, a small cry breaking from his lips when he saw the extent of his injuries. He rubbed his thumb nervously on Brendan's cheek, his eyes glancing over the lacerations on his face from which small shards of glass glinted in the dim light. The arm that he has seen hanging from the window was quite obviously broken, a small shard of bone protruded through the skin, making the bile rise again at the back of Ste's throat.

Tears dropped down his chin and he wiped his face and nose which ran in a steady stream. The hopelessness of their situation weighed heavily on him and as he stared into the battered and bruised face of his lover, willing those bright and calculating eyes to open and somehow get them out of the situation and to safety. While continuing to secure the cloth to his head, Ste bent forward carefully and placed his forehead gently against Brendan's and closed his eyes.

"Please Bren, please wake up." He whispered.

_TBC..._

_Feed the Dragon, leave a comment! :D  
_


	3. Chapter 3: A Painful Journey

_**Another huge thanks for your continuing comments! They help me know that I am on track with what I want to say, and you are doing a great job in feeding my soul. I've made the assumption in this chapter, that Brendan has no knowledge that the boy with the mustache on his finger was Walkers brother. I could not find info to tell me either way, so if he did in fact know, take it as a piece of artistic license for the fic ;)  
**_

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_"Please Bren, please wake up." _

The words filtered through the dark painful torment that seemed to consume his entire being, words spoken between sobs that made his heart leap in his chest unpleasantly and yet he had no idea why.

Attempting to move and waken, he found that his body was unwilling to react and his eyes appeared to be glued shut. Someone was holding his head still and placing a pressure on the sorest part that all he wanted to do was scream in pain but all he could manage was a low moan that he barely heard himself.

Continuing to fight through the dark fog that kept him suppressed, he felt bursts of pain firing up and down his body the more aware he became. Feeling like little explosions of agony, each one brought him closer to consciousness, but he found he was scared to fully waken up as the pain increased with every passing moment.

"_Brendan, please,"_

It wasn't the words that spurred him on, but the voice that spoke them. Wanting nothing more than to reassure and receive reassurance from the person the voice belonged to made him fight harder through the thickness in his mind. The voice that was breaking, belonged to the one person that meant the world to him, in fact, meant more to him than his very life, and it hurt him to hear that person sound so desolate.

Something brushed against his cheek and he attempted to reach for it with his right hand, only to find that his arm was filled with pain so intense that he choked out a small cry. His breathing was somehow impeded, not enough air seemed to be getting into his lungs and every time he tried to make a sound he needed more breaths to make up for a noise that had hardly been worth making.

Trying again, he managed to open his left eye, but he could see nothing more than varying degrees of shadow as his vision was blurred and useless. What light there was irritated the open eye, making it flutter and weep and he felt a tear track down into his hair. Try as he did, he could not open his right eye, but as his left eye adjusted, he managed to make out a hazy shadowed silhouette that made his heart jump.

"St...Ste'vn?" The barely audible mumble was all that he could manage yet it created a flurry of movement in the lad that showed that he had heard him. Brendan felt him stroke his head nervously as he spoke soothing words to him. He then felt Steven adjusting the hold he had on his head, allowing him to move it a little to straighten his neck, but he instantly regretted it when a torturous sensation ripped around his skull nearly sending him back into unconsciousness.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Steven's quiet words were followed by a readjusting of his head and drop of wetness on Brendan's forehead; Steven was crying.

Mustering up every ounce of energy he had, Brendan raised his left hand towards the now less fuzzy image of Steven, wanting nothing more than to comfort the lad and stop his tears. As his hand weakly touched Steven's cheek, the lad grabbed it with his own and held it tightly to his tear streaked face as his large scared eyes abruptly jumped into focus in Brendan's clearing sight and took his breath away. Steven must have been crying a great deal as eyelids were red and swollen and framed inflamed eyes that stared at him incredulously. He saw fear, pain and worry in them and it made him angry that someone had made Steven's beautiful eyes so sad. But he also saw the love and hope shining there too , making him wish his right eye would open just to see them more clearly. Steven's wrists were cut and bloody and Brendan choked at the cruelty that someone had dealt him, stirring a deep anger within him. He became aware that they were moving and it occurred to him that they were in a moving car, he had no idea why or who was driving it.

"Wh...what...happened?" He asked, trying to remember why he found himself in so much pain. The last thing that he remembered was packing the boot of the car for their journey to Glasgow, but how he got from there to here he had no idea. Steven glanced warily towards the front of the car then leaned closer to Brendan's head.

"Walker set up a trap, but it all went wrong and you got in a crash. He's taking us somewhere but I dunno where. Says it's to do with his brother Cam." Steven whispered, his mouth so close to Brendan's face that he could feel his warm breath on his bruised flesh.

"_Cam, Cam, the mustache man." _The phrase came out of nowhere from a long forgotten recess in his mind. He used to say the phrase to a young user who never passed him without holding his finger to his upper lip, showing the mustache that he had tattooed on it. He used to grin at the gesture, took it as a nod to his own impressive mustache. The boy had been likable enough, but Cam had always been a bit of a risk taker, one of those users that Brendan liked to call a Flying Lunatic, owing to the fact that they would try anything for their next high.

It had been a long time since he had last seen him, long before he had heard the news that the lad had ended up in hospital in a vegetative state. It shocked him that Cam was the brother that Walker wanted revenge for, it had never crossed his mind that it could be. He had assumed that Walker's brother had just been some sad drug abuser that his days in drug dealing had dealt a bad blow to, and now he realised just how dangerous a situation that both he and Steven were in.

He remembered one of his runners talking about their experience with Cam's older brother and cousin, and the state in which the maniacs had left his running partner. He had been told in vivid detail of the deliberate injuries the men had inflicted upon the runner, which was why Brendan had taken the decision to no longer supply Cam with drugs. Whether or not one of the runners gave in and did sell to Cam without his knowledge he did not know and it really didn't matter anyway, the fact that Walker blamed him, was very bad news for himself and Steven.

_Shit, Steven!_

He had to get him out of here, he would not allow Walker to harm him. He had almost lost Declan to him in what had been a rather hastily put together back up plan, he didn't even dare think of the planned lengths that Walker would go to with Steven in order to extract his revenge.

Despite the fact that he knew any movement would bring him pain, the need to get it together and get them out of there overrode any common sense and he attempted to maneuver himself into a sitting position. Even the knowledge that movement would bring pain did not prepare him for the agony that exploded in his arm and chest and a strangled yell burst from his throat as he slumped back into Steven's lap. Something had popped in his chest and breathing became so much harder than it had been and he groaned a long and piteous noise much louder than his previous attempts at vocalization. Steven was frantic, unable to speak or do anything except hold his hand and Brendan wished that he had not caused the lad more anxiety by being so stupid.

"Ah, you decided to join the fun Brendan. I must admit, I'm quite impressed at your tenacity to survive! Or is it simply that your brain wont give in to the fact that you are already dead?" Walkers voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up; he never thought that he would hear it again.

"Yeh...know...me...Walker...always fightin'." He said in a low gasp filled voice. It was all that he could do not to pass out, the pain in his arm had not abated and his lungs just felt like they had given up working on keeping him alive.

"Well, we have something in common then."

"What do...you want?"

"Oh you know what I want Brendan. I want you dead, and I want you to suffer before you die."

The man in the front passenger seat laughed then turned to look at Brendan, his freshly broken nose caked in blood.

"I think you will get your wish granted sooner than you think cuz. He looks like he wont last the journey."

Brendan's stomach flipped and his heart hammered in his chest; cuz, cousin. Their situation was suddenly so much worse than he had initially guessed, and he thought of Steven and how he had to get him away from these two men. He tore his hand from Steven's and grabbed at his jacket desperately, pulling him closer.

"Yeh have...to get...away..."

He felt his mind darken as his chest became so much more tighter as he panicked, making his breath coming in short ragged gasps. Darkness descended on him and he slipped into oblivion to the sound of Jason laughing and Steven shouting.

o0o0o0o0o

He was dragged into a world of pain as he was thrown roughly into a chair to which his limbs were now being tied. The scream that tore from his throat was raw as his broken right arm was mercilessly tied down with no thought of the pain it caused him.

"Leave him alone!" Steven shouted, clearly upset and this made Brendan angry. Footsteps then a muffled cry made him react to the fury that filled his mind but all his broken body would allow him to do was groan and twist in the chair as pain rippled through his entire being in ever increasing waves.

He opened his eye to see that he was sitting opposite Steven who was also tied to a chair, finding that they were in an empty room with harsh lighting that hurt his already more than painful head. His stomach churned anxiously when he saw the state that Steven was in; his clothes covered in blood, his face pale with red bloodshot eyes that bored into Brendan. Then he realised that the blood was his own, spilled in the back of the car onto Steven's clothes and he calmed a little knowing that it was not the lad that was injured. A dirty rag had been forced into his mouth moments ago and he could see that Steven was retching behind it and he prayed the lad wouldn't choke.

Walker approached him, cocky and sure of himself. He stood quietly staring at Brendan thoughtfully.

"What yeh...want Walker?" He wheezed.

Walker just smiled then walked away, leaving Brendan to look at Steven who stared back wide eyed. As he looked upon this man that he loved with his entire heart, he felt nothing but shame. He had thought that his days of harming Steven had ended, that he no longer needed to protect the lad from himself or his past. And yet here he was, looking into the terrified eyes of his love, knowing that it was his fault that he was once again scared and in danger. Why had he ever thought that they could be happy? Why did he even think that he deserved to be happy or loved in the first place? The old demons of self loathing and self depreciation rose like wraiths in his mind and haunted him, making him take his eye from Steven and hang his head with shameful guilt.

He must have passed out again as the next thing he knew his shoulder was being shaken harshly and Walker was saying his name. Grunting, he opened his eye and raised his head with the intent of looking at him, but his eye came to rest on the object which Walker held in his hand and refused to move from it. It was a syringe, filled with a strange blue liquid that reminded him of car screen wash. His eyes must have shown fear as Walker delighted in rolling the syringe in his fingers, holding it so that Brendan could have a better look at it.

"What's...that?" He gasped, his eyes never leaving the syringe.

"This?" Walker said, hunkering onto one knee in front of Brendan while making sure the syringe was well in view. "This is a very special thing indeed. I doubt that even you have heard of it Brendan. You see, this was not created in the street labs, but in the medical research labs. A little known byproduct of a very well known chemical, that when injected into the blood stream, opens the recipients mind up to all kinds of things. Which is why it is a banned and somewhat little known substance. And here we are, about to inject it into a man who has barely had more than cough medicine in his entire life. You say drugs dull the mind? You'll never believe what this shit can do." He stood again, rocked on his heels and smiled evilly. "How do you think that Steven will react to a drug of this calibre, hmm?" He asked, making a move towards Steven.

"No...no no...please...don't..." He struggled weakly in the chair, wishing that he could stop Walker from injecting the stuff into Steven, who looked more scared than he had ever seen him. He struggled so much that the rib that had popped earlier screamed in protest and his chest hitched painfully.

"Joke, it isn't intended for Steven, well, not this one anyway. Is it Jason?"

He heard a chuckle behind him and was taken by surprise when a hand grabbed his sleeve and pulled it back. He was not prepared for the pain that stabbed in is arm as Jason plunged the contents of a syringe into a vein, and as the drug made its way though his system, he doubted that anyone would ever be prepared for what he was now feeling.

A sensation of burning fire ripped up his arm ferociously and he screamed and screamed as the others laughed. It was as if he had been injected with lava and his body convulsed as the fire burned up through his shoulder and into his chest where is exploded in all directions until it reached every part of his body with such excruciating pain that made him think that he was dying.

His heart sped up and his head pulled back until he was staring at the ceiling, his screaming abruptly stopping as he began to pant in a weak rhythm that he had no control over. The muscles in his face pulled so tight that the blood that held his right eye closed cracked and gave, then both his eyes opened wider than they ever had as his mouth opened in a silent scream. His body became so rigid that it trembled and he felt his heart speed more, to the point he was sure it was about to stop.

Then the fire within him died down and his body slowly relaxed, his heart and breathing slowing until he felt on the verge of sleep. Even his pain seemed to have diminished until it was merely an annoying itch at the back of his mind. His head fell slowly forward and he felt it move gently with every shallow rise of his chest as his mind dulled until the only thing that he was aware of was a deep sensation of peace and disconnection from reality. His eyes remained open, vision blurred and unseeing, until he heard a voice close to his ear.

"Bre-e-e-e-endan..."

"Simon..." he breathed as Walkers voice triggered flashing images of their entwined past to erupt in his mind and it was if he was there again, living that past.

"Where are you Brendan?"

_He saw a man standing on a beach speaking into a mobile phone and despite the fact that he was so far away, he heard his words as if he spoke them directly to him._

"_I've got him. I've got him! Bastard poured his heart out to me. He's gonna tell me everything now, the murder, the business, the lot, I've got him!"_

"I didn't see that coming." The words were merely a whisper that fell from his mouth like smoke, a memory dredged up from the bad place he tried to forget.

"It's working!"

"How deep is he?"

"Very."

"Make sure."

"What else do you see Brendan, where are you?"

The voice sucked him deeper into that bad place, took him away from the beach and into the old holiday home that he hated with every fibre of his being. He was standing in his old room, weighed down under the feeling of immense oppression that seemed to fill the room. Then nana came in and rested herself against the radiator, the heaviness lifting slightly at her presence.

"_You know what we're doing here?"_

"_Don't know much about anything any more nana."_

"_I need you to do some 'tings before I die, it's important to put your affairs in order. _

"_Yeah, well when I'm about to kick the bucket, I wont be looking back, I'll be looking forward."_

"_I'm leaving this place to you in my will."_

"_Cheryl will be thrilled."_

"_Not Cheryl, just you. Do you know why?"_

"_No."_

"_So you can burn it to the ground."_

_The look in her eye, the pleading for, what? Forgiveness? Why? He became uneasy, something wasn't right and he felt that he knew deep down why. _

"_Oh you do yer best as a mother. You do every'ting they tell you to, every'ting yer mother did. But...there's this other half to them, your offspring. The half that's already in em before they come out"_

_She was crying and he didn't care. He felt queasy, knew what was coming and it chilled him._

"_Yer da was a wrong'un."_

"_What're yeh sayin'?"_

"_The 'ting I need you to do before I die, is not visit the holiday home." _

"_What're yeh sayin'? He repeated, knowing damn fine well what she was saying, and it cut him to the bone. _

"_It's to say sorry...I couldn't fix him."_

"You knew?" He felt the tears welling in his eyes and spilling down his cheek. "You knew what he did to me? Did you? No...no Nana..." He could hardly breathe and he choked on emotion that built so quickly that it paralyzed him. "Why?"

"Yeah, he is well and truly under." Walker said with satisfaction as he wiped a tear from Brendan's face and looked at it as if it was gold.

_TBC..._

_Feed me soul cookies, leave a comment! ;)_


	4. Chapter 4: Dark Revelations

_**Wow. I can't thank you enough for the lovely comments, they are really feeding my soul! So glad that you are all enjoying it, hope that I can continue to keep you all enjoying it! Just one thing as I have had so many PM'ing me worried about it, I do not write, nor read, death fics ;) Thank you all! :D**_

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The scene before him was so horrifying that Ste was sure every second of it would be so permanently etched on his mind that should he survive, he wouldn't forget even a single detail. Brendan screamed and struggled against whatever pain the drug had induced, making the veins and muscles in his neck bulge as he bucked and convulsed in the chair that groaned beneath him. The harrowing screams were unbearable and convinced Ste what he was seeing was Brendan's death throes in the midst of an overdose and as a result, he could not allow his eyes to leave him in what he thought were his final moments.

Working the dirty rag from his mouth, he spat it onto the floor and yelled at Walker and Jason to do something, anything, to help Brendan, but they only laughed harder as Brendan's suffering increased with every passing second. His stomach churned and he retched hard when he noticed that every time Brendan pulled against the restraints, the bone which had punctured the skin of his broken arm, was forced further through the skin creating even more trauma in the already injured limb. Blood now ran freely from the tear, dropping onto the floor in large droplets. Then the screaming stopped abruptly and the only sound was that of Brendan gasping for air as his head pulled back, his blank eyes looking towards the water damaged ceiling tiles above him.

Ste said a silent prayer to the God that Brendan so believed in, praying that Brendan would survive, that they both would. But he made no pact, merely asked for help, knowing in his heart that no one would hear or answer. Then Brendan became almost completely silent and still, his head dropped until it lay upon his chest and Ste closely watched his breathing as it reminded him that his lover was still alive. It wasn't until Walker had said his name in a sing song fashion that Brendan made any conscious sign of life.

"_You knew what he did to me? Did you? No...nana no...why?"_

He listened to the words that fell from Brendan's mouth and despite the fact that he had no context to whom or where these words were said, the message behind them was clear enough for Ste to hazard a guess as to what they meant. It sickened him to his soul as Brendan's drugged mind continued to spill long hidden memories from his past, memories that Ste wished he had never had to remember. He only really ever guessed the extent of cruelty Seamus had dealt his son; it had been too painful for Brendan to admit openly and Ste wasn't prepared to push it, he felt that Brendan had to be ready to tell him on his own. Only then, Ste thought, would Brendan begin to heal. But as he continued to listen to Brendan's quiet words, he realised just how extreme the cruelty must have been. What was almost harder to listen to, was Brendan's sobs as he broke down after the revelation. He cried like a child as if he had reverted back to that time and was living it all over again. He sounded like a young terrified boy, sobbing in the comforts of his hiding place, too scared to venture back out for fear of retribution.

"Ahhh Brendan, you thinking of your daddy?" Jason said then smiled as Brendan nodded his head and his body shuddered.

"Please...Da...don't..."

"Stop it! STOP IT!" Ste screeched, unwilling to stay silent while his lover was tortured with with the painful memories that had wounded him so terribly as a child.

"This is the fun part Steven, you should enjoy this part as Brendan only hurts himself and we don't even have to lift a finger." Jason smiled smugly.

He looked from Jason to Walker, seeing their smug stupid grins and their relaxed, almost lazy take on the situation.

"So, what you're saying, right, is that you're too big a coward to beat him yourself, yeah?" Jason walked towards him angrily, but Ste squared his jaw and wouldn't back down. "Bet you're dead proud too, eh? You're as big a coward as his dad, beating a helpless victim." He spat venomously. Jason raised his hand to strike but Walker stopped him and looked at Ste thoughtfully.

"How much did he tell you about his father Steven?"

"Told me everything, didn't he, not that it's got anything to do with you."

"No," Walker said, his head cocked to the side. "No I don't think he did tell you, just how much his daddy loved him. Did you Brendan?" He said, turning towards Brendan, an evil smile spreading on his face.

"No." Brendan's voice was toneless, dead sounding, making a shiver run down Ste's spine.

Walker hunkered down in front of Brendan, placed a hand to his face and raised his head until Brendan's heavily lidded, vacant eyes looked towards Ste.

"Tell Ste what you told me that day on the beach, about your father I mean."

Instantly, Brendan's eyes opened wide as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep. He looked at Walker the same way he had on that day; the day he first told another person about his deepest, darkest shame. His eyes looked deeply into Walkers, his brow creased in anxious worry as if he was trying to decide whether or not he could trust him. His eyes started that darting dance they did whenever he was nervous, and Ste could see just how hard it had been for Brendan to come to the decision to trust this man, however misguided it turned out to have been.

"My dad abused me." The muscle in his jaw twitched and he blinked as if he had surprised himself just by uttering those words. "Never told anyone that before." He said in a low voice as he took his eyes away from Walker to then stare into some unseen distance beyond the walls of the room in which they sat.

Ste's blood ran cold and he sat there, frozen in shock and anger, staring at Brendan's vacant face as he continued to look at whatever scene his mind had conjured for him. He watched as a tear welled up and spilled from his left eye and Ste followed its trail down his cheek until it disappeared beneath his stubbly chin. He looked haunted; as if his past was dancing before his eyes and he could do nothing but watch the ghosts as they replayed every hideous memory before him, trapping him in his shame forever.

Everything began to make sense. Why Brendan was a loner, why he never trusted anyone. Why until recently, he was always ashamed of who he was. It explained why Brendan became a terrified youngster whenever his father was near and why he threw protective and suffocating shields around those that he loved. It explained why loving Brendan, was one of the hardest things Ste had ever done. But he never regretted his love for Brendan, not one bit, in fact, it made him love him even more. It hurt him deeply to realise that even as a child, Brendan had no one to protect him. The one person who was meant to protect him, was the one who did the most harm. As he looked into Brendan's faraway eyes, he could see the scared lonely child there, hiding in the sadness that was ever present in those grey blue eyes. He saw that this time, it was Brendan who needed the protection.

"Oh Brendan." He said miserably, wishing only to hold him.

"Steven..." Brendan sighed his name out with a lopsided smile that creased the edges of his eyes. Ste's voice appeared to have triggered new images in his mind, for as he turned to look at Ste, his eyes were no longer vacant, but full of love and longing.

"Brendan don't listen to them, right?" He sniffed, trying to speak through the tears that nearly blinded him. "Don't listen, it's all lies! It's..." He was cut short and cried out in pain when Jason backhanded him. Walker whispered in Brendan's ear and his head slowly drooped down as he fell asleep, completely under his control.

"You're a right evil bastard, you are." Ste sneered angrily. "Too much of a coward to do anything without knocking him out first."

"You've got it all wrong Steven. I need him to take responsibility for his actions and I want him begging to be killed for his sins."

"What you on about? What actions? Like, he can't can do much tied to a chair and drugged can he, eh? No, so like I said, coward."

"You don't get it." Walker said leaning closer to him so he could whisper in his ear. "He doesn't need to leave the chair, he only needs to believe that he did."

As was the usual when something didn't make much sense to him, Ste curled his lip as his brows creased in confusion, all the time shaking his head almost imperceptibly as he glared at Walker. He was trying to decide whether Walker had completely lost it, or if he himself had missed a vital clue which was impeding his ability to understand Walkers words.

He heard the strike of a lighter and smelled the sickly aroma of a freshly lit cigarette as the cloying smoke invaded the space. Jason drew long and hard on the cigarette before blowing it out over Ste's face, making him choke and cough.

"Can he really be that fucking stupid? Why don't we just _hit_ him with the answer?" He said to Walker as he drew again on the cigarette, chuckling. Walker sniggered and Ste looked bewildered between them both, knowing that he was indeed missing something.

Walker nodded his head and a fraction of a second later, Ste's head snapped backwards as a fist slammed into his face and burst his nose. It took him by such surprise that he hardly made a sound, barely reacted. He didn't have time to shy away as a second blow caught him on the temple making little flashes of light explode in his vision.

"Do you understand now?"

A slow stream of thick blood oozed from his nose down over his lips as fresh tears welled in his eyes.

"You better pray he dunt wake up when you're finished with him. He will kill you's for this." He mumbled then spat blood from his mouth.

"Oh I doubt Brendan will ever kill anyone, ever again. Well, after he kills you that is." Walker grinned and left the room. "Carry on."

Jason stared murderously at him as he threw the finished cigarette on the ground and stood on it, but Ste refused to cower from him, his nose flaring as he fought to hide any fear from the man, despite the fact he was terrified. Jason didn't pull his punches as he leathered into Ste, beating him until he had almost forgotten who and where he was. His head rocked with every hit, eyes rolling in their sockets but he did his best to stay conscious and focused on Brendan. He felt that as long as he could see him, he could live through the beating. His head snapped back and dropped, only for a hand to roughly grab his hair and straighten it.

"That's for defending this piece of shit. How can you even live with yourself?" Another volley of punches rattled Ste's brain inside his skull and he felt a tooth snap in his jaw which he spat out with a gob of blood and watched with satisfaction as it hit Jason on the cheek then slide off his face. The fury in which Jason then attacked him was relentless and Ste was sure that he was going to kill him.

"Hey...fuckface...why don't...yeh try that...with me.?" Ste's heart leaped in his chest at the sound of Brendan's drugged voice, his dulled mind sharpening a little. Brendan's eyes were brightening as the drug in his system wore off. He was still clearly hurt and in a lot pain, but he had a fierce look upon his face that told Ste that he was very, very angry. The veins in his temples were raised as anger rushed through him and he looked at Jason with a deadly glint in his eye.

Jason smiled as he faced Brendan, a look of sheer enjoyment passed over his features as he delivered a brutal punch powered from his shoulder that made Brendan's head snap backwards. Brendan lifted his head back up, and smiled that sly smile that Ste knew so well.

"I said...try that with me...not tickle me...although if you prefer..."

Jason roared in anger and raised his hands above his head in preparation of unleashing a double fisted blow to Brendan's head, which would surely have killed him had Walker not returned.

"What the fuck Jason?! Get the fuck out of here and calm down!" Jason spun on his heels, ready to throw a wild punch at Walker, but he seemed to think better of it as he looked at his cousin's furious face. He left the room, pulling his cigarettes from his pockets and cursing as he disappeared through the door.

"So, Brendan. Are you ready for your next shot?"

"Oh I'm ready to kick...yer arse Walker."

"Really?" Walker calmly neared Brendan and punched him in the aching ribs, causing him to howl and cough in pain for a long time. His face turned a dark red as he struggled for air while Walker watched, mesmerized at the mans pain. "Yes, you really do look ready."

Brendan pulled his eyebrows down and bared his teeth in such a display of pure hatred that anyone who knew him, knew it was a bad sign. But tied to the chair and shit faced on a drug he was forced to take, even Brendan knew he wasn't fooling anyone with the show of warning. Walker drew another syringe from his pocket and plunged it deep into Brendan's arm, so intent on causing him more misery that he didn't even hesitate to inject the contents, not even allowing a few minutes to allow Brendan to recover from the blow to his broken ribs.

"Now, work on that, fucker."

Ste could no longer tolerate this awful torture and as he tried to blot out Brendan's bloodcurdling screams, he pulled up the courage and fought the pain in order to pull his hands free. His face hurt, his head hurt and he was sure that his nose was plastered across his face, but none it mattered, all that mattered was somehow getting them both out of there, alive. He worked through the pain, telling himself that what he was experiencing was nothing compared to what Brendan was suffering. Each agonized scream from his tortured lover gave him the strength to carry on through his own pain. By the time that the fire had burned out and Brendan reached the more sedate stage of the drug, Ste was sure that he almost had the ties ready to break. They felt looser and with the slickness of his blood as lubricant, he was sure that he would be able to pull a hand through the loop. He stopped fumbling as Jason walked back in with a hand rubbing his head and a scowl on his face, his appearance troubled Ste. Even if he did get free, he had no plan of action, no idea what he would do once free, he just desperately needed to free himself and help Brendan. He looked around the room, seeing nothing but walls with flaking paint and a floor with broken tiles. The windows were boarded up and the only way in or out was via the door at the far end of the room. He looked for a weapon, anything that he could use to defend himself and Brendan, but he could hardly see anything as his eyes were rapidly closing owing to his swelling eyelids.

A noise caught his attention and he saw Walker slap Brendan's face then place his hand on his jaw and shake him until his eyes opened marginally. He angled his head so that he looked straight at Ste, draped his arm over Brendan's shoulders then lowered his head until their cheeks touched, then he also stared towards him.

"Look Brendan, look at Ste." Brendan's eyes opened wider and when they rested on Ste's bloodied face, they narrowed in anger. "Do you see him Brendan, all those cuts and bruises and blood?"

"Yesssss..."

"Tell me Brendan, why did you do that to him? Why did you beat Steven so badly?"

Ste froze as Walkers plan finally became clear to him. Brendan was being tricked into thinking that he had beaten Ste, might even be tricked into believing he had killed him once the deed was done. Or was Walker's control over him under the effects of the drug so complete that he may actually be forced into killing Ste? Was the ultimate revenge in Walker's mind to have Brendan to destroy the one thing in the entire world that meant so much to him, to make him end the life that he tried so hard to protect?

Brendan was shaking his head while saying no over and over, refusing to look at Ste, fighting the brain washing by Walker. Seeing the abject horror on Brendan's face as he considered the possibility that it had been him that created the mess before him, Ste realised that Walker was right, Ste would be the death of Brendan Brady. They would hurt him so that Brendan would hurt himself. As Brendan's fear filled eyes looked again and scoured Ste's battered face, his head continued to shake from side to side. "Steven...I didn't...I didn't...no!" He said, dropping his head once more, unwilling to see Ste's pain.

"Look at him Brendan!" Walker said loudly in his ear, determined to make Brendan believe his lies. "Why did you do this to him!" He stood behind Brendan's chair and held his head in both hands, forcing him to look upon Ste.

"Don't listen to him Brendan!" Ste begged, only to see the gun that Jason now held in his hand, pointed straight at him as he stood out of Brendan's line of sight. He placed a finger to his lips and silenced Ste, his meaning very clear.

"I couldn't...I didn't!"

"You went insane! We had to stop you! Why do you think you are tied to a chair! You went berserk!"

"No..."He whimpered. "No I didn't...do this..." Brendan fought hard against the false memories that Walker tried to implant, but Walker wasn't going to let it all fall to pieces now.

"Look at him! You kicked the shit out of him, just like you did all of those other times Brendan! Remember when you beat him for making you consider your sexuality? When you beat him for your falling in love with him and when you beat him because you just couldn't handle how he made you feel! You remember that, don't you?" Brendan's eyes glazed over as his mind flooded with images of every punch that he ever dealt Ste, his head nodding. "Now look at Steven. You did that too. What had he done this time, huh?"

Brendan fell quiet. Defeat made his shoulders sag and he kept his head low as his chest heaved a wary sigh. When he next looked up, he held his head in such a way that his eyes never really met Ste's, but the scared defeated look on his face told Ste all that he needed to know. He believed Walker; they had broken him.

"Oh god Steven...I'm sorry!" His entire body was shaking, his breaths coming in huge grief filled gasps.

Ste could not even alert him to the lie and bring him peace as Jason now had the gun purposely turned on Brendan in case Ste felt that his own life wasn't much of a threat.

"I never meant... to hurt yeh Steven...ever. I'd rather...die...than ever hurt yeh...again." Tears fell down his face as Walker got down onto the floor to sit and watch the scene unfold. The words kept on coming and Ste's heart broke within his chest as the man he loved fell to pieces.

"I was never...good enough for...yeh. All I ever wanted...was to protect...yeh. Love yeh...be the kind...of man that...yeh could...be proud of. Yeh always were...the brightest thing in...my world. Yeh were,_ are_...the reason...that I exist at all. Without you, Steven...I'm nothing...and I've gone and...turned yeh away."

There fell a silence that was only broken by Ste's sniffing and hitched breathing as he cried at Brendan's heartfelt admissions. But Walker wanted more.

"You nearly killed him Brendan."

"No..." Brendan shook his head.

"What if you had killed him huh? What if Jason and I had not been here to stop you, and you had killed him?"

"I'd kill me'self." He replied without hesitation. He raised his head high enough to look at Ste, his eyes barely seeing him, "I can't live...without yeh Steven." Brendan fell silent, his head drooping until it laid on his chest.

"Brendan?" When no reply came, Walker got to his feet and checked him to find that he had passed out.

"You see Steven? I told you that you played a major role in this, you are the main act."

"You...bastard." Ste's voice broke as his chest hitched on a sob, his eyes running with tears shed in as much for Brendan's past as for both their futures, or lack there of. "You utter, bastard."

_TBC..._

_Feed the Dragon :D ;)_


	5. Chapter 5: A War of Minds

_**Since you all have been so lovely, I've worked extra hard to get this chapter up early. I am in awe of the comments coming through and am pretty sure my Dragony soul is overweight ;) So many thanks to you all! Next chapter will be from a different perspective and I will work on it over the weekend. I hope you enjoy!**_

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It felt as if someone had placed a large belt around his chest and then had pulled it too tight as breathing was becoming increasingly harder for him. With every breath came a sharp pain that grew in intensity that after a while every other breath was accompanied by a wheeze and a grunt. He felt dizzy and felt the terrible feeling of heavy suppression that he just didn't have the strength to break through. All of his thoughts were scrambled, nothing seemed real anymore, all his memories were hazy and so mixed up that he had problems telling which were real and which were not. Every time he moved his head it felt as if his skull was breaking, pain being an intensive constant in his abused body. Time seemed to have stopped and he felt as if he was stuck in an eternal moment of pain and confusion, forever tortured.

Then things started to become clearer and he could see and move much easier, but the pain also got so much more intense and harder to deal with. He raised his head to look around, seeing Jason towering over Steven, beating him to within an inch of his life. At first he was sure it was just another trick of his mind, that what he was seeing was something that his brain had created. But it was the way in which Steven continued to look at him, his eyes finding his whenever he righted his head after every punch. It was the way in which Steven concentrated on seeing him, as if by looking at him he was drawing some kind of strength. When he realised it was real and given that he was in no position to help, he decided to taunt Jason and bring the attack to himself.

"Hey, fuckface...Why don't...yeh try that with...me?" He hated the fact that his breaths were so short that he couldn't even say a single sentence in one take, knowing that no matter how angry he was, it wasn't conveyed in the gasped words.

Jason had obviously been a boxer at some point in his life, the punch he threw was calculated and powerful and Brendan was sure that his neck was going to snap as his head whipped back. He fought against the blackness that encroached his already blurred vision and raised his head, placing a smile on his face the he knew would piss Jason off more.

"I said...try that with me...not tickle me...although if you prefer..."

He would be a liar if he said he wasn't glad that Walker had entered the room when he did, as he knew that Jason was on the verge of dealing him a blow that would, without a doubt, have killed him. He grinned when Walker demanded that Jason leave, but the smile left his face when he had dared to annoy his savior.

"I'm ready...to kick yer arse...Walker."

Walker took great pleasure in delivering a deliberate hit to Brendan's already broken and ribs and he howled in pain as they moved in ways they were never meant to. He thought then that he was going to pass out, but he bit against the pain and forced himself to raise his head to look at Walker angrily, only to watch as another syringe was jabbed into his arm.

The drug hit him quicker this time, but just as violently as the last. The injected fire burned through his body lighting fast and soon he was once again sagging into the chair, unable to think for himself feeling nothing more than acute disconnection.

He felt a heaviness weigh down on his shoulders and it took a few moments to work out that it was Walker's arm. A cool cheek touched his fevered skin as Walker leaned close, their heads touching. He could smell the mans aftershave and it plunged his mind into a memory of heated frantic sex, which Walker consented to in order to get Brendan to trust him. Turning his head slightly, he breathed the heavy scent in and hated himself for it, but the memory was so strong that the smell itself was a powerful aphrodisiac.

Pulled from the memory, Walker's voice broke through the haze in his mind and told him to look at Steven. The shock he experienced when he saw the battered face was like another punch to his abdomen. He was unwilling to believe that it was Steven that sat there, covered in blood and snot and tears, eyes swelling and nose burst.

Then Walker was demanding why he had done it, why _he_ had beaten Steven and his mind reeled in panic that it might have been him. But he had promised Steven that he would never fall back into his violent ways, and he had stood by that promise, never once lifting his hand to hurt another since. But as he looked upon the beaten visage, he wondered if he could have done it. He was sure that it had been someone else that had hurt Steven, something told him that, but as he listened to Walkers insistent words he began to doubt his own memory. Walkers words filtered through the haze and distorted his memory until the lie took on a monstrous shape in his mind and he saw himself towering over Steven, who looked at him with large terrified eyes. He watched as his fists pummeled the defenseless lad mercilessly, his hands bruising the flesh of the man he had sworn to love and protect. He cried out in shame, knowing that he was a monster, and not even Steven's love and support could ever change that.

"...we had to drag you off him!" In his mind he saw Walker and Jason take an arm each and pull him him from Steven, leaving the lad sitting there, bleeding and crying.

Then he was back in the chair, Walker by his side, confronted by Steven who stared at him with contempt through swollen eyelids. He could not look at him, could not look upon the damage and the pain that he had inflicted upon this man who he was meant to love. He lowered his head so that his eyes would not meet Steven's, so scared he was to see the hate that he was sure would be there.

Even though he felt the need to speak them, the words of apology he uttered seemed meaningless in the face of such a brutal assault. He would never be forgiven this time, _should_ never be forgiven as he had broken not only the promise that he had made Steven, but also the trust that the lad had placed in him, the trust he had placed even in himself.

Walker's voice then invaded his mind and told him that he had nearly killed Steven. Even in the state that he was in, he did not believe himself capable of such a horrendous act, refused to believe it even though he had killed in the past. This was Steven, he could never harm him never mind kill him, yet there he sat, beaten at his hands until he begged him to stop.

"What if you had killed him, huh?..."

The question jolted him out of his fugue and he responded with the only truth he had in his mind, the one truth that he believed would be the case if Steven died at his hands.

"I'd kill me'self." He looked towards Steven and the closing eyes that glistened with tears. The face that he loved that he had mangled in a fit of rage. "I can't live...without yeh Steven."

Extreme exhaustion overcame him and his head dropped down as if all of his strength had left him with those final words. As all thought left his mind, sleep drew a dark curtain over him and he passed out.

When he next woke his mind was clearer, his body more pained. The drug was wearing off again, seemed to be wearing off quicker each time and he was slowly coming back to his senses. As he opened his eyes, they locked on Steven and he remembered the pain that he had subjected the lad to before. He appeared to be asleep, making the soft snore that always soothed Brendan to sleep at night. Looking around the room he saw Walker and Jason talking animatedly in the doorway, not noticing that he was awake, so he dropped his head again and listened in while keeping his eyes open just enough to watch the two men.

"Jase you really don't look too good. Maybe you should go get looked over"

"No. I'm staying." Jason said and he wiped his hand over his face. "I need to see this to the end, for Cam."

Walker placed a hand on his shoulder, dipping his head to look into his eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Let's just finish them and get out of here."

As they walked back into the room, Jason stumbled to the side as if hit by a sudden attack of dizziness. His features slackened for a moment, giving his pale face the look of someone about to pass out. He shook his head and righted himself, looking to Walker who had not seen anything. He ran a hand over his face and continued to follow Walker until both men stood next to him.

Brendan felt Walker place a hand on his chin and raise his head as he pried open his eyes to inspect them. The drug was still having some effect on his body as he didn't even have to pretend to be out of it, his eyes rolled as the light hit them anyway.

"I think he's done." Walker proclaimed unhappily, clearly disappointed that their fun was at an end. "Time to finish it."

"You sure? He didn't pay enough for my liking."

"We knew we only ever had a few chances at it anyway," Walker said as he dropped Brendan's head. "Too many injections could have liquified his brain."

"Then waken him up and inject him, I want to see the bastard burn from the inside."

Brendan continued to keep up the pretense that he was unconscious but his mind was frantically trying to think of ways to survive. If he continued with the ruse he would be dead, if he showed them he was awake, he ran the chance of becoming brain dead with another injection. Neither was exactly a better option than the other, but at least if he survived the injection, he could would have more time left, even if it was just to say goodbye to Steven. He groaned and moved his head, flickering his eyes as if he was waking up, aware that Walker was watching him.

"You really do amaze me Brendan. Your will to live is very strong, but that is what makes this all the more fun. The longer you live, the more we can play."

"Let Steven go." He said weakly as he lifted his head. "Have your fun with me, but let Steven go."

Walker looked towards the sleeping Steven, an internal darkness falling over his eyes.

"You brought him here Brendan. You and your callous disregard for human life. Why should I allow him to live when you never gave my brother the chance to live?"

"I never...killed your...brother, Walker." He sighed.

"You provided the drugs. You killed him."

"No. I never...provided the...drugs. I stopped providing him...months before he...overdosed."

Walker took a step forward and grabbed Brendan's clothes, pulling him forward in the chair until every joint creaked in pain. "You liar. I know it was you! Pedaling filth and killing people without a thought! YOU killed him! YOU!" He shoved him back into the chair and paced with agitation.

"Simon..." Using his first name stopped Walker in his tracks. "Cam killed...himself."

Enraged, Walker ran at him, placed his hands around his throat and squeezed tightly. Brendan squirmed and jerked, unable to breathe as Walker determinedly watched his face to see the life drain from him. Just when he thought that Walker would kill him, he let go of his neck and stood back.

"No, that's too good a way for you to die."

As Brendan gasped down huge gulps of air, Jason plunged the blue contents of another syringe into his arm then stood back to watch the show. As the fire began to burn once more, Brendan fought hard against the pain and tried to hold himself together; he was damned if he was going to give Walker the satisfaction of hearing him scream again. Baring his teeth in a tightly clenched jaw, his body bucked as the drug scorched its way through his body. He had managed to hold back the screams for a while, but as the fire intensified then exploded through in his chest, a strangled cry broke from his mouth. He clamped his mouth closed again and continued to stare at Walker as his body convulsed and trembled. But the fire in his veins burned through his resolve and when he could no longer take it, he threw his head backwards and roared long and as loud, until the drug took hold of his mind and silenced him.

His head dropped to his chest and he was once again in the world where pain was minimal as was conscious thought. He tried to fight it, tried to break through the effects of the drug but he was unable to do anything except stare at the floor immediately before him. As his eyes went in and out of focus, an object fell into his line of sight, an object that moved so strangely that it pulled his bleary eyes towards it.

What he saw confused and slightly amused him. It was Jason, thrashing and jerking uncontrollably on the ground. His eyes were wide and rolled back in the sockets, but his face was slack with the exception of a continual tick on the left side of his jaw. His legs jerked and twitched as his back arched and relaxed only to arch again in rapid movement.

As his body continued to shudder and thrash, Walker rushed to his side, not knowing what to do. Brendan could hear him shouting at Jason, worrying over what was happening, but Brendan felt no sympathy for the man. Walker's hands were in his long hair, tearing it in frustration at not being able to help Jason and in fear of what the seizure meant. He pulled his phone from his jacket but before he could dial a number, another object came crashing into view and landed on Walker. Brendan's vision blurred and he could not make out what it was before him, all he could see was a writhing mass of colour and movement. He blinked and screwed his eyes up, then opened them wider in order to see clearer and was shocked by what he saw.

Steven was on top of Walker, beating him about the head with bloody hands and a scowl upon his battered face that even Brendan would have been proud of. Walker hit back but as Jason groaned in his seizure, he looked away for a fraction of a second and Steven didn't miss the chance. He took Walker's head in both hands and smashed it into the floor, knocking him clean out. Brendan's eyes lost focus again as his head dropped and all he could make out was the blurred image of Jason convulsing.

As he stared at the fuzzy image, he began to believe that what he had just witnessed had been a hallucination or skewed memory, so it took him by surprise when gentle hands cupped his face and raised his head up until he looked into the worried eyes of Steven Hay. He looked terrible, his nose was surely broken, his eyes swollen, the right one almost closed. His hair was disheveled and his lip burst, but Brendan had never seen such a beautiful sight. He was speaking to him but Brendan could not make out his words over the continual grunting that Jason made in his seizure, but he watched as Steven untied his restraints, wincing when he saw the damage that had been done to Steven's hands in his haste to escape. The skin on his wrists was almost sheared off, scrapes and cuts from the tight plastic ties showed all over his hands and Brendan hated the thought of the pain he had gone through to free his hands. With his left hand free he reached for Steven, a sudden rush of emotion and guilt washing over him.

"I'm sorry Steven...I should never...what I did...to you!" He traced a shaking finger over Steven's bloodied face, hating himself for making such marks on his loved one. But Steven reached and took his hand in his own and positioned himself so that Brendan had to look him in the eye.

"You look at me Brendan Brady." When Brendan looked away, Steven brought his head back to face him again, leaving his hand to linger on the side of his face. "Look at me Bren." His voice was so soft in its begging that he had to look. When he stared upon that abused face, tears welled in his eyes. For all that he had done to the lad, he still sat there before him, with love and hope and Brendan had no right to want him, no right to be wanted by him, yet there he was.

"You never did this, right? Brendan, you did not do this to me!"

He shook his head, unbelieving. He remembered watching himself beat Steven, watching as every deliberate punch hit home with savage impact. He shook his head again and looked away.

"I'm sorry."

Steven looked worriedly towards Walker as he broke the last restraint, turning back to Brendan with a look of urgency on his face.

"We have to go, now."

Try as he might, Brendan just could not get to his feet. His head was too fuzzy, his legs too weak and the pain in his head and chest stopped him from trying to move. Every time Steven tried to get him out of the chair, some other new pain decided to take the air from his already weakened lungs and he would simply flop back into the chair with a moan. He was still far too suppressed by the drug to do much for himself and he sat there, barely even able to lift his own head never mind escape. Jason was now motionless, his seizure having passed leaving him unconscious next to Walker who could waken any minute.

"Go...you go...I'm done."

Despite the fact that Brendan had abused him, beat and tortured him, Steven would not leave without him. He just could not get his head around that fact until Steven gently held his head still and placed his forehead against his, his eyes so close that Brendan was sure he could see his soul.

"Bren, please," His voice cracked with emotion and fear. "You have to get up, we dunt have much time." A large tear fell from his eye and slowly tracked down his cheek and out of view.

Brendan gasped as he saw the truth in those eyes and the spell that Walker had created fell away with that one shed tear. He saw the love in those eyes and knew instantly that he could never hurt Steven again the way he was made to believe he had. His mind shifted and the most recent memory changed and suddenly it wasn't himself that he could see hitting Steven, it was Jason. His breathing quickened and his mouth twisted in a smile that surprised Steven.

"It wasn't...me," He said as he placed his left hand to Steven's face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. "I didn't...do this!" He saw Steven close his eyes as a new tear fell from his eye and he swallowed hard. "You didn't do this." He sighed, opening his eyes and pulling back from Brendan as he wiped his sleeve across his face.

"Right, we need to get out of here. Come on then." He got to his feet and took Brendan's hand then guided his arm over his shoulder. With great difficulty, he managed to heave Brendan to his feet where he swayed dangerously for a moment. He was more out of it that either of them had realised and he felt heavy and useless as Steven tried to drag him from the room. They had hardly moved two yards when his legs collapsed and they both fell heavily to the ground. Brendan's vision darkened as his long suffering body fell within moments of blacking out from the pain that wracked his body. Steven helped him onto his side then disappeared from view, only to return and shake his shoulder while speaking to him. But Brendan could hardly hear a word he was saying as his mind became more confused and sleepy. Then he felt warm breath near his ear as words of encouragement whispered through his brain.

He had said it before and would forever say it, Steven Hay was more intelligent than people gave him credit for. Even in his stupor he knew that the words Steven spoke in his ear were a deliberate attempt to copy what Walker had done every time the drug had taken control of his mind. He spoke words that made him forget his pain, forget his limitations. He spoke words that made him believe he was ready to get on his feet and fed his mind with the desire and the need to get out of this hellhole. He groaned as he turned and attempted to lean on his broken arm until Steven helped him to his knees.

"You redeh?" He asked as he took off his jacket then tied the arms together to make a sling for the broken limb and keep it out of danger.

Brendan nodded and Steven helped him to his feet and then they were moving, slowly but surely out of the room, leaving the others behind while hoping that they would be long gone before either Walker or Jason woke up.

_TBC..._

_Feed the Dragon :D_


	6. Chapter 6: Tragic Memories

_**Still can not get over the comments you luvelry folk are leaving! Thank you all very much, does my soul good! This chapter is Simon's POV, and might give a little insight into him and Jason. I know it is different, but I hope that you enjoy it :D**_

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Simon groaned as he raised himself from the ground, a hand gingerly touching the back of his head feeling the blood in his hair. Pulling himself into a sitting position, he squeezed his eyes shut as the room appeared to spin around him and controlled his breathing until the dizziness passed. When he opened them again, he saw Jason laying motionless beside him and remembered what had happened. Reaching out, he placed a trembling hand on Jason's shoulder and shook him gently, but he remained unresponsive, sending a shiver of fear down Simon's spine. He was laying on his side with his head pulled backwards and his back arched uncomfortably. One arm was trapped beneath his body while the other lay in a position which suggested that he had been reaching for Simon while he had lain unconscious. For a long moment Simon could not breathe; when he reached for a pulse in Jason's neck and felt the weak and thready pulse beneath his fingertips, he let the breath he had been holding out in a relieved sigh.

"Jason?" He shook his shoulder again as he watched his slack face for any sign of life but saw none.

Looking in his eyes, he noted that one of his pupils was blown, much larger than the other and he understood enough to realize that this was not a good sign. He inspected him for signs of injury, sure that he had hurt himself in the car crash and hadn't said anything, but with the exception of his broken nose and some minor cuts there seemed to be no other signs of injury. Earlier Jason had mentioned having a sore head but when Simon asked about it, he had said that he was fine, but looking at it now, it could have been a sign that something terrible had occurred within Jason's skull and that they had not noticed. Following Cam's admittance to the hospital and subsequent diagnosis of cerebral hypoxia, Simon had spent time researching the brain and what this meant for Cam. It was devastating to discover that his particular brain injury was so catastrophic that he may never recover. But through his research, he was very much aware of the fact that not every brain injury held an outward sign of its presence and so worry creased his face as he shook Jason again a little more forcefully, feeling some small relief when he moaned piteously.

He had to get him to a hospital quick, but when he reached for his phone, he found that it was missing. He guessed that either Brendan or Steven had taken it so he started to search Jason's pockets for his, then his hand halted when it touched something cold and wet on the inside pocket of his jacket. For a second he wondered if it was blood, but there was no red gore when he finally withdrew his hand to look at it, only a dampness on his skin. Already his mind knew what it was but he brought his fingers to his nose and inhaled deeply, his eyes closing as the familiar sweet scent invaded his senses and nearly stopped his heart in anguish. Suddenly it felt as if the walls were closing in on him, the room becoming too small as despair choked him with claustrophobia while he fought to stay in control of his senses.

Opening Jason's jacket, he saw the discoloration of a wet patch where a syringe had broken inside his pocket. Closing it back over he inspected the outer material, finding a needle poked right through the brown leather. He already knew what he would find as he pushed the sleeve of Jason's jacket up, but seeing the scratch and puncture mark on his arm still filled him with sorrow as he stared at it in disbelief. Carefully reaching into the inside pocket, he pulled out the intact syringe to see how much Jason had accidentally taken, finding that it was more or less completely empty. As he stared between the syringe and Jason, he felt the very last shred of his humanity quiver within him on the brink of disappearing forever. The syringes must have uncapped or broken while he was beating Steven, or when he had thrown the punch at Brendan, either way, Jason had been injected with the drug and appeared to have taken a bad reaction to it. He also knew, that if he didn't get him some help, Jason would not be coming home with him.

He stared at the man who had been more than just a cousin, more like his other brother. Their uncles son, Jason had been more or less raised beside them and had been very good friends with Cam when they were children. Both he and Jason had attempted an intervention when they found out that Cam was taking drugs, and it had been Jason who had finally managed to get Cam the help he needed. Jason had been there the night that Cam had overdosed, he had been the one to call the ambulance to get him to the hospital. The night had started well enough, a quiet pint down the local then heading out to meet up with Simon when he finished work later. But they had a stupid argument as they left the pub and Jason had angrily went back to the bar for another pint in order to calm down, leaving Cam angry and alone at the door. No one had suspected that Cam had been using again and as Jason swigged his pint, Cam had taken himself out into the side alley for his final hit, an angry decision that he made knowing it would piss Jason off. When Jason noticed that Cam had not came back, he thought that he had gone on to the club to meet with Simon, only to find him in the alley unconscious twenty minutes later. He never forgave himself for that night, for arguing with Cam and for not recognizing the signs that Cam had been using again. No matter how often Simon reassured him that it was not his fault, Jason never did get over it, not even when Simon told him whose fault it really was. Cam's dealer; Brendan Brady.

That night had been one of the worst nights that Simon had ever endured, not knowing if his brother would live or die, hating himself for not being there for him when he needed him most. He never left Cam's bedside for the first week save to go home to freshen up and eat, but he would return to sit by him, watch over him. He spoke to his brother, convinced that he could hear every word he said, willing him to reply. Indeed he was encouraged to, being told that there was the possibility that Cam _could_ hear him. Time passed and then one day, Cam reacted to him. He looked towards Simon, flashed his cheeky smile and said Simon's name. He had been so overjoyed that he had called on the doctor and animatedly explained what had happened, urging her to come and see Cam awake and speaking. When they had returned the room, Cam was in the same position he was always in, sitting propped up in the bed, staring at the duvet with blank, vacant eyes. The doctor said that she was sorry as she placed a hand on Simon's arm, explaining that it was natural to see things that were not there in such circumstance and as she detailed Cam's condition to him again, he saw the pity in her eyes and hated it. That had been his first slide into the darkness, his first experience with the madness he would one day be consumed by.

The day Cam had passed away, Simon sat beside him, holding his hand, and as his ragged breathing slowed and stopped, Simon wished that he could follow him into that forever dark unknown he had gone to. He almost felt himself being sucked there as the void created by Cam's departure was almost too much for him to bear. But life would not allow him to go with his brother, his need for revenge would also not allow it. As he continued to hold Cam's cooling hand, Simon's heart broke, sending him sliding back into that comfortable darkness of insanity for the second time. He fell into that welcoming deep well of despair never knowing how much it would cost him to dwell there too long. When he eventually returned from that dark hell, he had changed in ways that no one would have believed. He no longer cared for himself nor anyone else for that matter, fueled by such a passion for revenge that nothing else mattered in this world except Jason and the ending of Brendan Brady. His grief and despair had been replaced by an eternal anger that soared through his veins clouding his judgement. It had changed his very nature, leaving him numb, fearless and remorseless. He had the sense to maintain the illusion of his old self, projecting the caring law abiding Simon Walker that everyone remembered, while hiding his new self and intentions behind the illusion.

Shawnee had been the only one who noticed that perhaps Simon was not quite right, he never could hide his true feelings from her but she never guessed just how different he had become. She had tried to help him of course, and he allowed her to think that she was helping as he abused her authority and used her for his own intentions. He fooled everyone, except Jason.

Jason had taken one look at him when he turned up on his doorstep that night, on the run and exhausted, then dragged him inside for an explanation. He saw right through the facade, could see the darkness that now tinged his eyes and he wanted answers. Simon broke down and told him everything, even the extremes that he had went to in order to bring Brady down. He told him of the flirting, the killing, the sex and the accidental shooting of Riley Costello. Not once did Jason judge him or threaten to hand him in; he stood by his side and offered his strong shoulders to hold some of the griefs crushing weight, and then he helped him build the plan to take down Brendan Brady.

Simon had created around him a spiders web of contacts with the most awful of people in order to bring down Brady. He used these contacts to find ways in which to make him pay and it was through his contacts that he discovered the little known, mind altering drug that had recently began to flood the drug market, so he looked into it more. The more he heard and read about it, the more he was convinced that it would be a very effective tool in the destruction of Brady. The way in which it could be used to manipulate the mind was too good to ignore and he had set about gathering information on Brady that he could use against him. He already knew that his father had abused him, but he needed more, he needed to torture the man. After spending a few days digging, he found out all sorts of things that he could use; his abuse of Steven not being the least. The very fact that he had beaten the love of his life while he had the inability to admit his homosexuality, was certain to be a nugget of shame in Brendan Brady's heart and perfect to use in the manipulation of his mind. He gathered all the information he could and set a plan in place that would twist Brady's mind as thoroughly as Simon's own mind was.

When they had everything that they needed, he and Jason worked out the plan together; what they would do, where they would do it. Even how they would dispose of the bodies was planned which was why they had decided on the unit at the industrial park; no one would find their bodies down the sand chute for a very, very long time. Despite the fact that it had gone a little pear-shaped with the crash which had nearly nearly killed Brady too soon, they had pulled it off.

They had to find new location since the two smashed cars at the industrial estate would draw unwanted attention despite it being abandoned; peoples eyes noticed things out of place even in disused places. So Simon drove them to a place in which he had hidden while on the run. While it had been accessible on his motorbike, the road terminated before reaching the building and the car could not make it passed the thick foliage. They had to leave the car in the tree lined road and drag their captives the rest of the way. But the place was just what they needed; an abandoned company unit filled with old tables, chairs and rubbish, it served their purpose perfectly.

But as he sat next to Jason on the dirty floor surrounded by the rubbish and the dust, their plan fell to pieces and Simon worried that he was about to lose someone else because of Brady. He had to get Jason back to the car and to a hospital, but as he tried to help him to his feet, it was clear that it had been much more than just a seizure that he had suffered. The entire left side of his body seemed incapable of any movement and Jason, unable to help, felt like a dead weight dragging him back down the dark pit of despair. Simon could hear the darkness calling his name but he would not allow this to happen, not to Jason. He gripped him tightly, trying to hold the weakened side so that Jason could use the side that still worked, but he was still under the influence of the drug and as such had no real care for their situation, only the fuzzy nothingness that kept him drowsy and weak. No matter how hard Simon tried, he was unable to get Jason out of the room never mind all the way to the car. Admitting defeat, he rested his cousin back onto the ground and as he was about to stand, Jason placed a hand on his arm.

"You have to finish it." He said in a weak thick voice, his tongue barely able to form the words.

"I'm not leaving you Jason, I wont."

"You have to Sime. It's not just Cam anymore, it's me and it's you. He pays...for us all..."

Simon's eyes filled with warm tears and he slowly but reluctantly nodded his head as Jason's hand tightened on his arm then let go. He looked at Jason, laying there barely conscious and all he wanted was to make sure that he knew that he loved him, but it was too late to tell him, as Jason could no longer hear anything. Simon watched as Jason started to shake and seizure violently, his back arching alarmingly as his head pulled back. Loud guttural noises barked from his throat as saliva spat through his tight lips. His right limbs twitched and jerked while his left simply stirred with the rest of the body as it bucked and every muscle in his body seemed to jump and dance beneath his skin. His eyes never moved, never blinked and although they remained open, he saw nothing. The seizure lasted a long time, brutal and painful to watch but Simon watched it all, watched everything as he had with Cam, until the life finally left Jason in a moment of stillness and a long sighed breath.

Simon stared into his sightless eyes for a moment before he reached forward and closed his eyelids. While he had known the drug to be dangerous and understood it was sometimes fatal, he wondered if perhaps Jason had been unlucky or had a weakness from the car accident. But none of it mattered now anyway; Jason Walker was gone and with him went the last shred of Simon's humanity and his sanity. His final link to reality was severed and Simon Walker became a monster so much more darker than Brendan would ever be. He may have been cruel before, but nothing remained to hold him back as Simon's dark mind realized that it was free. Free from fear, from doubt and from retribution. He had nothing left worth losing, not even his own life meant anything to him and he would gladly forfeit it if it was required to bring Brady down. His nose flared angrily while he continued to stare at Jason's dead body, his jaw clenched as he promised Jason through gritted teeth that Brendan Brady would be dead before the day was done.

He had misjudged Steven; Simon had always been of the opinion that Steven Hay was a happy go lucky idiot, but it was clear now that the lad was more clever that he had thought. It also surprised him that the lanky thin young man had got the better of him and knocked him out, but he wouldn't make the same mistake again. Next time they all met, Simon was determined to be the only survivor of the encounter. There were no more tears, he had no feelings left to create them, he was hollow, barely human and as he stood and turned away from his cousins body, he never looked back.  
Passing through the doorway, he stopped only to lift what remained of the pre filled syringes and Jason's mobile which lay beside them then headed outside. He already knew that his gun was gone, he had given it to Jason and he didn't find it when he had searched him for his phone. Either Brendan or Steven had it but that didn't scare him; one was too ill to use it, the other too innocent to fire it.

He was sure that they would not have gotten far, Brendan was far too doped and injured, Steven was beaten and not quite robust enough to haul his lover very far. All Simon had to do was figure out which direction they had taken. The area was surrounded by woodland, even the road was unseen from the building and given that they both had been unconscious when they were brought here, they would not have any clue as to the whereabouts of the road. He had relieved them of their phones so they would not even have GPS or maps to help them, and even if they had his phone, it was locked. In the end, he and Jason had planned for every eventuality, with the exception of one of them dying. As he stepped out of the building into the cool new morning air, he thought about the moment that Cam had died, remembered back to a few minutes ago when Jason died. He recalled their faces, their fading light and it renewed his strength as he stood there in the chill air and closed his eyes to all visual stimulation. He straightened his back, relaxed his shoulders and allowed his ears to seek out his enemy. He could hear the noises of nature around him; the noisy chatter of birds and the wind in the trees, but he heard past them to the unusual sounds of the woods. The breaking of wood under hurried and unsteady feet, the words of encouragement that filtered through the branches of the trees to meet his ears. Then he heard the loud yell of pain from deep within the woods which sent a flock of crows cawing into the air in alarm.

"Gotcha." He said with a smile and ran towards the sound.

TBC...

_Feed the Dragon some soul cookies!_


	7. Chapter 7: Babes in the Woods

_**This took longer than I would have liked owing to work, meetings and illness. But here it is, the next chapter. Thank you to everyone leaving me comments, I have tried to get back to every one of you. But a huge thanks also to those of you who leave guest comments, all of your words are making this story much easier to write :D Anyhoo, hope you enjoy! And yeah, I am starting the next chapter tomorrow ;)**_

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The abandoned unit was a maze of corridors and dead ends, a confusing labyrinth that they quickly got lost in. Windows were boarded or barred, doors were locked and without knowing where the exit was, they simply staggered through the corridors in search of an escape. Lights were on in some areas and they were unsure how this place still had electricity until they came across a humming generator, figuring that either Walker or Jason had rigged it. Taking a right turn they came across what must have been Walker's hastily made entrance to the building, a door open wide and broken off its hinges. They warily made their way towards it, sure that any second Walker or Jason would come from nowhere and bar their path. As they passed over the threshold, no one suddenly appeared to stop them, so they carried on straight out and into the surrounding woods.

Steven shouldered Brendan's arm and placed his own around his waist keeping him upright and steady for which Brendan was grateful as his injured body weakened with every step they took. At first they stumbled everywhere, unable to get themselves into a rhythm but they eventually managed to steady themselves into an ungainly walk that carried them deep into the surrounding woods. Light had already started to spread through the morning sky and the cold air turned their breath into white smoky vapor that dissipated around them as they stumbled through bracken and tripped over fallen branches. Despite having no clue as to where they were or which direction to take, they continued to push on, determined to get as far away from the building and Walker as they could.

Their torn and bloody clothes were now splattered with mud and wet grass, made worse when they occasionally slipped, landing on the ground with pained yelps. Each time they fell it was so much harder to get back on their feet to continue and stumble on their way. Even without their injuries they were hungry, thirsty and weak to the point of exhaustion. Neither of them could keep up their current pace and hope to live until the end of the day. During one tumble, Walker's forgotten phone fell from Steven's pocket and he picked it up quickly to use, only to find it was locked with a password and useless. But the screen did show them the time and that they had been tortured at Walker and Jason's hands for well over fourteen hours and it shocked them as it had seemed a lot longer in their minds; in fact it had felt like days.

Brendan was aware of Steven checking him continually, knew that he was failing the further they went. The wound on his head had started bleeding again and he felt the blood trickling down through his hair onto his neck while breathing was just a continual agony. He was sure that Walker's last punch had sent one of his broken ribs into a lung, and the fact he was now coughing up blood cemented that belief, but he wasn't about to give up.

Steven never stopped once, his resolve to get them to safety amazed Brendan, but as the drug in his system began to wear off and the pain became more acute, not even Steven's determination and constant motivation could make him go any faster or last much longer. But he continued to listen to Steven's words of encouragement as they seemed to unlock some hidden reserves within his body, allowing him to carry on. The silence between his words was filled with laboured breathing, groans and cries of pain, and Brendan knew he was hearing weakened bodies running their final mile.

The woods seemed endless, no matter where they turned all they could see were rows of trees and thick foliage that held no paths or escape routes. With no idea where they were, the further they walked the less optimistic they became at escaping at all. There were no signs of houses or roads, everywhere they looked all they could see was thick branches and closely packed trees. When eventually they came across a stream of running water, their need for fluid overrode their need for escape and they headed towards it, their thick dry tongues licking their lips at the thought of some cooling water. It was a small creek with water so clear they could see the stony bottom and Steven eased Brendan onto the ground, leaning him against the trunk of a tree. He went to the waters edge and using his hands as a cup, brought Brendan some water. As the cold liquid touch his lips he drank greedily from Steven's hands until the last drop trickled through the crack of his fingers.

"You alright?"

Exhausted, he could hardly focus on Steven, barely keeping his eyes from closing, but he managed a nod of his head.

"Yeah." He whispered and smiled, knowing it was a lie.

"Well you dunt look alright." Steven said as he went to fetch some more water, but Brendan caught his hand in his, tightening a gentle hold on his cool damp fingers.

He winced as he looked at the torn skin on Steven's wrists, the open wounds which encircled his wrists, the blood that smeared and the skin that had been rubbed away.

"This is...all my...fault."

"What you on about? You had nothing to do with this Brendan." Steven said as he pulled his hand away, clearly irritated. "This was Walker, not you!"

He went back to the water and scooped some into his mouth, relishing its coolness. Brendan watched as he washed his hands in the water, making a hissing noise as the cool wetness hit this wounds. But he was still strong, still able to move well and able to escape where as Brendan could feel his remaining strength dwindle and he feared that because of him they would both be killed; Steven at least had a chance. Calling his name, he smiled as Steven hurried to him, his face full of concern, the irritation gone.

"Yeh need...to go...find help..." He raised his hand seeing the strong reaction on Steven's face as he shook his head angrily. "Please Steven."

"Don't you think I'm leaving you here Brendan, 'cause I'm not!"

"I'm only...going to get...weaker. Neither of...us will...make it."

"No, right? No way. We go together or not at all, yeah?." He knew by the look in his eyes that Steven would lay down and die next to him if he had to, his stubbornness was legendary and Brendan just shook his head, knowing that he wouldn't be able to change his mind.

"Anyways, say what you like 'cause I'm not listening." He walked back to the water and scooped another handful of it into his mouth, leaning over the edge of the bank precariously, then he stopped and raised his head. For some moments he just sat there, his head cocked to the side comically, concentrating on something.

"D'you hear that?" He asked eventually as he looked towards Brendan and got to his feet. "Tell me you can hear that too."

Brendan closed his eyes to concentrate as all he could currently hear was the loud fast beating of his heart in his ears, but then he heard it too; the sound of moving traffic. Steven's head turned this way and that trying to pinpoint the noise.

"It's coming from there." he said, pointing across the creek. It was so obvious now that Brendan couldn't understand why they had not heard it before.

Steven walked swiftly back to him, a new bounce in his step, eager to be moving again. He walked behind him, placing his arms under Brendan's then helped him to his feet, only for his ribs to scream in protest and he yelled so loud that crows in the trees above them scattered into the air, cawing angrily.

"I'm sorreh Brendan." Steven said miserably, as he stood there panting and coughing.

Brendan merely shook his head, unable to formulate any kind of response and gripped onto his shoulder, allowing him to lead him through the water to the other side. He gasped when he slipped on the algae covered stones beneath the water, nearly dragging them both down into the wetness as a pain ripped up his back and through his head. He managed to regain his footing and they continued on to the opposite side. It wasn't a very wide creek but the bank on the other side was very steep and Steven had problems getting them both up it. Scrambling in mud, trying to grab hold on the slippery slope, it took everything that they both had to get up the bank. Brendan's broken arm was uselessly tied up in the sling that Steven had made from his jacket and it proved to be a painful obstacle in the climbing of the embankment. With much wheezing and pulling they made it, but they had only walked another couple of steps for Brendan to discover that he wasn't going much further. He experienced a feeling of extreme lightheadedness and swayed unsteadily on his feet, making walking almost an impossibility. Steven sensed something was wrong and despite his desire to continue forward, he knew that Brendan would have to rest so he slowed in preparation of helping him sit down.

"You alright?"

"I...I...can't...go...any...further."

"Course you can! I'll carry you all the way If I 'ave to!"

Steven never failed to amaze him, but not even his lovely face and spirited words would be enough to get him to move again anytime soon. Brendan smiled goofily as his body began to relax into a haze of numbness. It felt as if his body was just giving up, had no more left to give him, and that if he lay down now he would never get back up. It was with a sense of overpowering peace that he acknowledged that he was about to pass out, and he welcomed it as the only time his body was not wracked in agony. His body started to shift as his mind began to close down, his eyes so heavy that they were closed before his knees gave way. The world tilted alarmingly as he fell backwards, his head falling back loosely as all of his muscles relaxed at once. He was vaguely aware of Steven shifting, changing his hold until he caught his limp body firmly and anxiously lowered him to the ground. Steven was distraught as he held him tightly in his arms, begging and pleading to him not to die.

"Don't you die on me Brendan Brady! Don't you leave me alone!"

He was beginning to worry that the decision was out of his hands, and that he would soon be leaving no matter how much Steven begged him to stay. Using the last of his fading strength, he cracked open an eye and looked up towards that bruised face and tried to smile reassuringly, pretty sure that he had pulled off no more than a grimace.

"Ain't...planning...on dying Steven. Just...rest..." he whispered, not even believing himself, then coughed a wracking cough that left him weary and feeble. He felt Steven's arms pull tighter around him as he fell into the welcoming arms of painless unconsciousness.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Brendan's eyes fluttered closed and his head relaxed into Steven's hold as his arm slackened and flopped to the ground. Steven was sure that he was gone, but the strange wheeze in his breathing reassured him that he was still alive. He leaned back against the tree as he held Brendan in his arms, looking down on his upturned face as he sobbed quietly. His skin was so pale and so white, making the dark blood from his wounds stand out in stark contrast. The vivid red was making him feel sick and he wiped it away gently with the sleeve of his jumper.

"Brendan?" He didn't expect a reply, just felt the need to say his name in the silence. Even the rattling wheeze from Brendan's chest had quietened as he didn't have to labour so much. Steven could actually feel the rattle in his chest and it filled him with a deep sense of foreboding; what if that had been the last time he would ever hear Brendan's voice? What if that had been the last time he could have told him how much he loved him? His bottom lip quivered as he contemplated a future without Brendan and found it bleak and terrifying.

To live his life without Brendan, to never see or hear him again, to never have him touch or hold him, to never see those eyes that stripped him to his very soul, Steven just could not imagine it. His love for Brendan was so utterly consuming that he felt he could never live without him, yet here he was in the middle of nowhere sitting by a stream as his love bled to death in his arms.

"You can't leave me Bren, not after everything we've been through." He shook his head as the tears started to spill from his eyelids. "We've...we've only just found each other."

He knew without a doubt that he would never be loved by anyone the way Brendan loved him, and to live without that love every day would be a tragedy. He sat there holding onto Brendan while staring at his face, engraving every detail, every crease to his memory just in case this was their final parting. Brendan looked more relaxed than Steven had ever seen him; no worry lines creasing his forehead and eyes, no pulling of his eyebrows or frown lines near his mouth. He looked, for want of a better phrase, at peace. The thought of that sent a shiver through Steven and he sat there terrified to let go, but knowing that he had to.

He heard traffic again, the sound of a car engine coming through the trees as if the road was just on the other side of them, so close that he could signal for help and get Brendan the care he needed. But he was vexed to leave him alone in fear that he might die while he was gone. Yet he knew that if he didn't go looking for help, Brendan was as good as dead anyway; he was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

Gently laying Brendan down onto the damp grass, he removed the improvised sling and unfolded the jacket to make it into a cushion, carefully laying the bloody broken arm across Brendan's chest. He placed the folded jacket beneath his head, ensuring it did not touch the head wound then leaned over and softly kissed Brendan's forehead.

"I'll be back real soon." He whispered as he stood up, then smiled when Brendan shifted ever so slightly and moaned in reply. He gave one more glance towards Brendan then ran quickly towards the trees, hope of finding help giving him the incentive to leave.

He found that they were actually very near the edge of the woods and in only a few meters he had broken through the last of the trees and burst out onto an open field, nearly collapsing with crushing disappointment when he saw that the road was on the far side of the field. Even if Brendan did wake again, there was no hope in hell that he would make it across that expanse. He placed his hands on his head in distress, pulling at his hair before letting them drop to his sides disheartened. He turned to go back to Brendan when something caught his eye. The road may have been too far away, but only about a hundred yards away to the left, he could see Walker's car, sitting there abandoned in a track road. He was sure that if he could get Brendan wakened, they could at least make it to the car and plan from there. He ran back to Brendan intent on wakening him then helping him to the car, feeling slightly more optimistic, but he slid to an abrupt halt when he saw Walker roughly raising a now awake Brendan into a sitting position. He grunted in pain but bore angry bloodshot eyes at Walker, clearly Brendan had not given up just yet.

"I wondered when you'd be back." Walker said loudly as he wiped his hands on Brendan's shoulders in a sarcastic dusting off. He turned to look at Steven, an evil crooked smile on his face that did not reach his eyes; they remained cold and calculating.

Steven was rooted to the spot; frozen in fear and unable to move, he merely stared at him.

"Now where did you think you were running off to? Very rude of you Steven. I expect that from Brendan, but not you." He got to his feet and turned away from Brendan who was trying to keep himself upright and failing, slumping back onto the ground with a thud, causing him to have a wracking coughing fit that sent red spittle spraying from his mouth.

Steven's heart hammered in his chest and he had no idea what to say or do as he watched Walker calmly and slowly walk towards him. He could see Brendan struggling to get back up, his fingers digging into the earth for purchase but he just wasn't strong enough. Walker was near now and suddenly he remembered the heavy weight in his pocket which he reached for. Walker seemed unaware of his intentions, yet when Steven pulled the gun out and aimed it at him, he never even flinched.

"Right stay where you are Simon!" His hand trembled. "It ends here, yeah? Now."

"Does it indeed? And are you man enough to end it Steven?"

"I'm not kidding Simon, right? I'll shoot yer!" His hand was shaking now and he could not keep the gun in a steady aim. Walker continued to walk towards him through the water, the smile on his face becoming larger as if he knew something that Steven didn't.

"I warned you!" Steven shouted and he closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened, no noise, no scream, nothing, just a feeling of the gun getting heavier. When he opened his eyes, Walker was standing right in front of him, his left hand holding the barrel of the gun as he pulled it from his grasp.

"Always take the safety off Steven, they work better that way."

Steven dropped his arm to his side, so angry with himself for being so naive to think he could have ended it there and then.

"That was quite a stunt you pulled back there, I must admit I was quite impressed, truly I was." Walker said as he rubbed the back of his head. "I never knew you had it in you."

"Yeah? Well, there's plenty more where that came from." Steven retorted, despite knowing that he had no chance now.

"Yes, I can see that. Pulling a gun on someone takes courage, I suppose you have that."

Gasping came from behind Walker and they both looked to see that Brendan had finally managed to get himself upright again, he was not looking good but he stared at Walker murderously.

"Yer like...a damned...boomerang...Walker. Yeh just keep...coming back."

"Ahhh Brendan, so good of you to join us for the final act in the show. Perfect timing as usual."

Walker deftly positioned himself behind Steven and roughly pulled him back through the creek and shoved him towards Brendan. It sent him pitching forward and he landed on his knees a few feet from him. He felt a thud behind him as Walker place a hand on his neck, squeezing it tightly and holding him at peace. Brendan looked as if he wanted nothing more than to get onto his feet and slaughter the son of a bitch, but he looked on the verge of passing out again until his heavy lidded eyes widened, looking behind Steven to what Walker held in his hand.

"Everything is changed now. The game, the rules, all changed." His voice was dead, toneless and cold. "After your little stunt back there, I now need to kill you both. I had planned on letting Steven here go eventually, but the fact is, you now owe me for two lives."

"What happened to Jason?" Steven asked in a small voice, knowing instantly what Walker meant.

"Jason, accidentally took a dose of this." He said as he casually moved the syringe in front of Steven's eyes rolling it in his fingers, and now he knew why Brendan looked so scared. "One, accidental, single dose killed him" His hand tightened even more on Steven's neck as he got angrier and spoke through gritted teeth.

"One dose, and my cousin had a stroke, didn't even have time to feel the fire in his veins before he died. Now tell me, do you feel lucky enough to survive this? Or will you be like Our Jason, and die on the first try?"

"Jesus...Walker...don't...do this..." Brendan pleaded as he slumped hard against the tree, his left arm raised as if reaching out to him.

Walker simply ignored his pleas, obviously enjoying the fact that he was back in control again, hurting Brendan in ways that made his dark heart happy. Steven would not take his eyes from Brendan, terrified that he would never see him again while searching his face for some sign of the Brendan Brady ingenuity that might save him. But as his entire body began to tremble, he saw the fear in Brendan's eyes and understood that he could not save him this time. Walker pressed the needle to his neck and he stopped stock still, terrified.

"Simon...please..." Brendan pleaded.

Walker laughed and it echoed through the cold morning air.

"Let's see how lucky you are Steven, shall we?"

Brendan stared at him, horror in his bloodshot eyes, and with his own eyes brimming with tears Steven mouthed "I love you" to him then felt the sharp pain as the needle punctured his skin and pushed deep into his flesh.

As he was consumed by fire that made him forget everything except pain, he heard his own strangled screams as Brendan roared his name hoarsely.

_TBC..._

_You know the drill! Feed the Dragon! :D_


	8. Chapter 8: Love and Loss

_**Overwhelmed, that's what I am with your response to this tragic tale! :D This chapter, is most probably the darkest, and I need you all to trust me. Don't freak out, just trust The Dragon ;)**_

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Steven knelt a few feet from him, a syringe held to his neck like a gun to his head and Brendan could do nothing but stare into his wide terrified eyes and watch for the light fading. Walker was playing Russian Roulette with his life, knowing that the injection was potentially lethal and he stood there smiling as he pressed the needle into skin, not caring whether Steven lived or died as long as he got his revenge. From Steven's pleading eyes fell diamond tears as his lips silently uttered his love for Brendan before his mouth opened in shock as the drug was injected. Steven's eyes rolled back in his head as the drug swept through his body with excruciating intensity, making him jerk uncontrollably and he fell to the ground emitting a scream that only ended when he drew in breath for another.

Walker stood over Steven, watching his reaction to the drug with interest, laughing quietly at the noises that were forced from his throat. Brendan was enraged, every twist of Steven's body fueling his anger and as Walker was distracted, he somehow managed to get himself to his feet with the thought of taking him down with a running tackle and beating him senseless. But he was too frail and completely misjudged his strength, managing only to crash headlong into Walker, taking them both tumbling hard to the ground. Walker had no trouble pushing Brendan from him and he landed with a thud on his stomach next to Steven. He black out for a few seconds as fresh waves of suffering wracked his body and when the blackness lifted he found himself in a strange dull world where everything seemed faded and muffled.

Time seemed to stop as his entire world came crashing down, allowing him to watch every agonizing detail as the man on the ground before him writhed and screamed. He watched with a strange detachment, as if what he was seeing really wasn't anything to do with him. Yet it was, and he could feel and do nothing but lay there and watch it in its entirety, with a vague hope that perhaps he was dreaming it all. He didn't even believe his own memories anymore as Walker had twisted them until he did not know what was real and what was imagined. But what he was seeing was real and it compounded his physical torment with mental anguish so intense that it left him breathless. While he wished with all his heart that he could take some of Steven's pain away, he could only lay there, impotent and useless, watching the continuing torment of his lover.

The never ending screams hurt his head and the ferocity of Steven's reaction to the drug shocked him. Walker was now watching Brendan, His arms folded triumphantly as an amused smile pulled at his lips. He was finally reaping his rewards from his well thought out plan, finally getting to see Brendan Brady pay for everything that Walker blamed him for. But Brendan ignored him and kept his eyes on Steven, attempting to pull strength from every scream and twitch as he wanted to be there and see it when it ended; he would not allow Steven die alone.

The screams grew louder as the drug saturated Steven's entire body. His eyes were wide and staring, wet with tears that leaked continually, but it was obvious that he saw nothing. His muscles pulled his arms and hands into cruel twisted contortions, while the muscles in his legs and feet straightened painfully taut. As Brendan had before him, Steven writhed through the pain, his body bucking violently until at last the screams faded to moans and his body simply stopped moving until he lay there panting, exhausted.

Walker moved closer and knelt beside Steven, turning him onto his back then leaned over to peer in his eyes as he placed a hand on his chin and shook slightly. He seemed to be happy with what he saw as he then pulled Steven over to the tree behind him and leaned him against its trunk. Steven's head dropped to his chest and he just sat there, limp and unmoving, like a puppet with broken strings. Brendan watched Steven's slow steady breathing as he himself sucked in barely enough air to stay conscious.

"I guess he is very lucky, or maybe not, depending on which way you want to look at it." Walker smiled smugly and all Brendan wanted to do was kill the bastard.

"What lies...yeh gonna...feed him?" He managed to ask in a wheezy weak voice.

"Lies? Oh you mean how I manipulated your mind? I'm afraid you've misunderstood me. You see, when I said 'lets see how lucky you are,' I meant, would he die on the first shot, or the second? In fact, hold on." He put his hand inside his jacket and pulled something out that made Brendan's blood run cold. "Five, five chances at luck. If, and I doubt it, but if he survives four, you both go free and I drop you off at the nearest hospital. But if he doesn't, then the fifth one is for you, and I know that _you_ won't survive another."

"You bastard...Walker...don't dare...or..."

"Or what? Hmm? What can the mighty Brendan Brady do to me that he hasn't already done huh?" Walker was seething, his jaw clenched tight as his hands pulled into fists, then he viciously kicked Brendan so that he rolled onto his back. Falling to his knees beside him, he purposely grabbed Brendan's broken arm and manipulated the bone in the wound to extract pained cries from Brendan, deliberately causing as much suffering as he could.

"I've. Lost. Everything. _Everything_ because of you!" He spoke through gritted teeth as he squeezed tighter on Brendan's arm, mashing the bone in the wound, tearing it open again. "My entire life, wrecked. My family, torn apart. Do you think I owe you something Brendan? Do you think you deserve my compassion and pity because you are watching your loved one die? It's small recompense to atone for all of _your _sins."

When Walker finally let go of his arm, Brendan groaned in relief as he panted through the pain. He could feel the warmth of fresh blood oozing from the wound; it was the last thing he needed as he had precious little blood left to lose. Walker went to Steven and raised his head, his heavy drooping eyelids only just open enough to see the drugged eyes beneath. Walker seemed to think something over then crouched next to Steven as he threw a sly smile towards Brendan.

"Steven, why don't you tell Brendan, _exactly_ what you think of him."

Steven's eyes blinked and he raised his head coming out of his stupor to look around, then as his eyes alighted on Brendan, his lips pulled into a wide bright smile that Brendan couldn't help but return.

"I love you Bren, always have, always will. I'd do anyfing for you. I waited so long for you to be mine and I were well chuffed when we got togever in Dublin." His eyes went dreamy for a second, then he looked at Brendan earnestly. "I fink we were meant to be togever you and me. Dunt matter what anyone else says or finks, right, I will always love you Brendan Brad'eh, no matter what happens. Wiv all my heart an' all." He looked at him with this big goofy grin, as if he had wanted to say those words for so long and hadn't as he thought Brendan might not like to hear them. But Brendan did like it and bitter tears welled in his eyes as he realised it was the last time he would ever hear of Steven's love for him.

"Awwww, now wasn't that nice." Walker drawled sarcastically. "You really love Brendan that much?" Steven nodded his head, the smile fixed on his face as his eyes unfocussed, his eyelids drooping again. "How much do you love him Steven?"

"Wiv all my heart." He whispered as his head slowly dropped back down to his chest.

Despite the fact that in a twisted way he was grateful to Walker for allowing him the chance to hear those words of love, he resented the man. The only reason that Walker had even thought to place that particular suggestion into Steven's drugged mind was simply to use his words as a weapon to further torture Brendan with. Allowing him to hear those words while knowing that he never would again, was almost too cruel from Brendan to endure.

"With all of his heart Brendan, all of his young innocent heart." Walker pulled a sarcastic pouting face. "Such a shame that heart will stop soon." He said as he uncapped a syringe.

"No!" Brendan wheezed out futilely as the second syringe plunged into Steven's skin triggering another wave of screaming pain that made him fall over onto the ground where he twisted and jerked horribly. But it was obvious that something had changed as his reaction was different this time. Steven stopped jerking and instead his body straightened out, every muscle stretched quivering beneath his skin. His arms and legs extended out, his entire body shuddering while his screams became gurgles and choking coughs. Brendan could see his lips turning blue as his eyes rolled backwards then closed tightly.

"Ste...Steven!" He croaked, reaching a hand out but finding he was not close enough to touch Steven's shaking body. He dug deep into his final reserves and pulled himself along the ground, desperate to be near the choking man. Walker laughed hysterically as Brendan finally collapsed next to Steven, only to find that he had fallen silent and deathly still. He maneuvered himself until he was positioned next to him, slipping his left arm beneath and pulling him closer into an awkward embrace. The last of his strength left him and his arm relaxed, causing Steven's head to loll on his shoulder to face upwards with his eyes closed and lips parted by his slack jaw.

The entire world was lost to Brendan, all that he could see and wanted to see in this entire universe lay next to him, barely alive. Unbidden tears welled in his eyes and he closed them as the ice chill of grief spread through his body. To lose him like this, laying on the damp ground of some unknown wood in the middle of nowhere, tortured within an inch of their lives, twisted Brendan's soul in ways that many would not understand. For Steven to die a death such as this was so completely abhorrent to him that it created within his heart a hole so dark that he would never recover even if he should live. It seemed that Walker's wish had come true as Brendan Brady was completely broken while he lay there with his dying lover, wishing for all the world to see his baby blue eyes once more.

"Steven..." he cried. "Steven...wake up."

"He isn't wakening again Brendan." Walker said surprisingly close, and Brendan looked to see him kneeling beside them, his fingers on Steven's neck. He was shaking his head, telling him that the worst had already occurred and a whimpered cry escaped Brendan's lips as he mourned for Steven. A wave of coldness washed over him as he felt his mind go numb, unable to deal with the grief that suddenly weighed down on him so heavily.

"No...he can't..."

Walker looked at Brendan with pity, like one might do when staring upon the sad remains of a mangled animal killed on a road. His tears continued to flow, running down into his hair and he didn't care about Walker's pity, he didn't care about anything anymore.

"Just...do it...Walker." He whispered.

But Walker ignored him as he reached down and lifted Steven from his side sparking gasped whispers of indignation from Brendan. He laid him down a few feet away, so that all Brendan could do was stare at Steven's serene face until Walker placed himself between them, cutting off his view.

"I'm not going to kill you Brendan."

He could hardly believe what he was hearing, too horrified to believe that Walker could be so callous as to leave him alive while Steven lay dead. His mind reeled at the thought of being so incapacitated that he would never reach Steven, knowing that he would die alone while staring at his lost love. It just seemed too cruel, and was too much for Brendan's mind to take.

He felt himself tipping into that dark hell that he had once fallen, years before he had even stepped foot in Hollyoaks. It was the place that he went after the bullies at school left him black and blue. It was the place he fled to after a shift at his fathers pub, spending time with the judgmental and disapproving. It was the place he ran crying to after his father abused and tormented him. His own personal hell that he had carved within his mind where he could hide in a darkness that listened and never judged.

As the darkness beckoned, he panicked within himself, overwhelmed by a terrible feeling that felt like millions of tiny insects scurrying over the inside of his skin and all he wanted to do was claw it off. His building panic became uncontrollable hysteria as he imagined spending his final moments laying near a lifeless Steven and he fought to keep himself from shrieking as he felt himself unhinge. Steven was gone; the only light that shone through his darkness had been extinguished and Brendan lay there choking on his own breath in the void left behind.

He felt a hand gently touch his shoulder, pulling him back to a reality he would rather leave. Walker shook him again until he was sure that Brendan could hear him.

"You said, that should you lose Steven, you could not live without him. So I offer you this."

Walker held out his hand and Brendan's eyes locked upon the syringe held between his fingers. He looked upon it and knew instantly what Walker was suggesting, yet it did not scare him.

"A quick way out, a somewhat fitting end."

Walker shifted, allowing Brendan the chance to look upon Steven who lay deathly still, his face so pale and lifeless that Brendan felt crushing pain in his chest. The pain had nothing to do with his broken ribs, it was his heart splintering into a million shards of agony at the loss of the one thing in the word that he cared for above all else. He looked back to Walker, who continued to stare at him with those sorrowful eyes through which his insanity shone.

"You know you can't live without him." His voice was so soft, hypnotic in its tone.

Looking again to the syringe in Walker's hand, he thought of the peace it might bring him. Laying there, knowing that Steven was dead, was a grief he could not live with. After years of abuse and hiding his real self, living lies and building himself an empire based on fear, Brendan looked at the bright aquamarine liquid and thought perhaps it was a good way for him to die. He had lived a poisoned life, perhaps he should end it with a poison. He was certain that he was looking at his death, considering his body had all but shut down and his mind was simply ticking along until it caught up with the fact he was already dead.

"You could escape your dad, bring peace to Cheryl, you know she has struggled under your guilt." Walkers voice filtered through his thoughts like it was a part of his own mind, encouraging him and confirming his own thoughts.

He looked again to Steven, could not contain the sob that made his chest hitch. He had only pushed himself past his limits for his sake. Only willed his dying body forward in order to see Steven to safety. But he failed to protect him, failed to keep him safe from harm, so he had no reason to keep himself alive anymore.

"He's already gone, there is nothing left for you." Again Walker seemed to be reading his thoughts as he continued to kneel next to Brendan. His smooth voice soothed his mind with its low rhythmic tones, calming him as he made his decision.

"Make your choice Brendan."

Walker uncapped the syringe and held it ready, offering it to Brendan as if he was handing him a joint. But this was one high that he would not enjoy, though he felt that he deserved its burning death, for Brendan would eternally blame himself for everything, whether he should or not. And so he raised his hand to take the syringe, committed to using it and wipe himself from the earth. He noted the sudden glint of eagerness that lit up Walker's face, but he ignored it, it didn't matter now. Walker had taken everything from him, and all that was left was to fade away, which he willingly planned to do.

But as he took the syringe in his hand and twisted it between his trembling fingers, a soft voice sounded near to him, filled with fear and worry.

"Bren...don't!"

His head whipped round to see Steven's beautiful eyes staring at him, shining in the new days light but still dulled from the drug.

"Steven?" He whispered, not quite believing what he was seeing.

Steven was scared and hurt, but Dear God he was alive! Suddenly Brendan wanted to live too, he wanted to live and touch and hold the man who was trying his best to lift himself from the ground. But his joy turned to horror as the syringe was pulled from his hand and Walker suddenly straddled him, pinning his arms beneath his knees. He struggled for air as Walker's weight crushed him and his wounds, realising that he had lied, that when he had felt for the pulse in Steven he deliberately told Brendan that he was dead to simply further his torment.

"It would have been nice to have seen you do it yourself," Walker shouted angrily "But since you insist!" Brendan's eyes and mouth opened wide in silent shock as he stabbed the syringe into Brendan's neck, then sat back to watch him die.

As the fire once again spread through his veins, it did so with no sound and very little movement from Brendan. He had nothing left to fight with, didn't even have the strength in him to scream as the mortal agony tore through his body. Even the violence of the last injections was missing, his body was too weak to react, merely shuddering as his muscles trembled. Walker looked down on him, smiling in victory and all Brendan could do was stare back as he silently suffered.

As his body went into complete meltdown, he found that he could not even close or move his eyes and they remained trained on Walker. He could no longer control anything, his body felt as if it had been disconnected from his mind and so he lay there under Walker's weight, paralyzed while the drug scorched his insides.

A loud bang sounded beside him and Walker was thrown from him by force as a spray of warm red wetness rained down on Brendan. His mind was too drugged and fading, he could not work out what had just happened as he stared at the place Walker's face had been only moments before. Then, the blurry image of Steven Hay appeared there, that beautiful face that he loved so much hovered above him as he felt hands shaking him and pat his face. But even though Brendan wished with all of his heart that he could stay and look more on that face, his eyes closed reluctantly and he disappeared beneath a dark veil.

_TBC..._

_Feed The Dragon Cookie Comments :D_


	9. Chapter 9: Fear and Loathing

_**Huge thank you to everyone for the comments and reviews, I love hearing your thoughts on the tale and am enjoying your reactions to it! I've just finished a night shift and have not been to bed so if there are any glaringly obvious mistakes, please let me know! But on with the show!**_

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Each and every person is unique and as a result, react differently to different things. Medicine, alcohol even drugs; what works for one person may not necessarily work for another and the same could be said for Walkers deadly cocktail. There was no denying that the initial reaction Steven had was the same as Brendan and Jason's; the fire that ripped through his entire body was so excruciating that it bordered on the sublime in its torture, but the worst part for Steven was the fact that he couldn't breathe.

As a child he had been borderline asthmatic and like most kids he grew out of it, but unbeknownst to him, it had left him with a slightly weaker chest than most. As the drug tore through his body making his pain receptors fire, it brought on what felt like an asthma attack that impeded the ability of his lungs to preform properly. The first injection had sparked what could be seen as a usual asthma attack, where he went through the motions of breathing, feeling as if he was sucking through a thick filter until his lungs wheezed and begged for more air. The second injection, given so soon after the first, triggered a reaction so severe that it virtually closed the airways to and within his lungs, effectively asphyxiating him. His body, starving of oxygen, had ceased its convulsions in order to save what remained of the oxygen in his system until supply returned. He thought that he was going to die as he suffered not only the pain the drug caused but also the fact he was unable to breathe. Every muscle in his body tensed simultaneously and he seemed to vibrate until the worst had passed. By the time his narrowed airways had slowly started to open, Steven had already lost consciousness, unaware that he had even survived.

In the first few moments of wakening, all he felt was the aching of his joints and the tenderness in every muscle of his body. Unable to move, he lay restrained by the drug he had been forced to take, but he had no recollection of that and idly wondered what the hell had happened. His eyelids felt so heavy that he could barely open them and he imagined that perhaps he had been out on one of his very rare nights in town where he enjoyed a few beers too many and was laying in his bed drunk. So he relaxed. No worries, just relax. But the bed was not soft and he was cold, in fact he could swear that he was laying on hard ground. Then he heard a weak whispery voice close by and everything came flooding back in waves of fear and unease.

"Just ...do it...Walker." Brendan sounded so despondent and sorrowful that Steven wondered what could have made him so terribly sad.

Steven felt hands lift and move him, the movement making his head spin and he fought to stay conscious. Very aware now that he was in fact laying on the hard and uncomfortable ground, he was scared to move in case Walker noticed that he was awake so listened as he heard his voice, soft and mesmerizing, speaking to Brendan sounding compelling yet sinister.

"I'm not going to kill you Brendan."

Steven breathed deep and steady, listening with growing dread at every calming word that spilled from Walker's mouth, deliberate and calculated.

"You said, that should you lose Steven, you could not live without him. So I offer you this...A quick way out, a somewhat fitting end...You know you can't live without him."

Steven suddenly understood what it was that Walker was doing; toying with Brendan's emotions the way that he had when he was under the influence of the drug, making sure that Brendan believed that Steven was dead and that he had nothing left to live for. Given that he was lying lifeless, seemingly dead as he was subdued by the deep effect of the drug, Steven had no doubt that Brendan would believe Walker's words. He also knew how damaging those words would be to Brendan, how they would twist his insides and damage his psyche, for if the tables were turned, that is exactly what he would feel hearing those words while staring at Brendan's cold pale face. The thought of Brendan dying thinking that he was alone upset Steven and he refused to let it happen. With more energy than he thought would be necessary, he slowly turned himself onto his side and flopped over on his stomach, his face in the dirt and right arm trapped beneath him.

"He's already gone, there is nothing left for you...make your choice Brendan."

Lies! It was all lies! All the words that Walker ever said were lies and Steven was sick of it. He raised his head up, seeing that Walker had his back to him as he held up a syringe full of death for Brendan to take. Tears of sorrow fell from Brendan's eyes as he reached and took the syringe and Steven was not sure what crushed him more; the fact that Brendan was crying for him or the fact that Brendan loved him so much that he would rather die than live without him. Either way, he had to stop Brendan, stop Walker and though he could hardly move, he could damned well speak and let Brendan know that he was alive.

"Bren...no..."

The effect of his words was immediate, as if someone had stopped the weight of the world from crushing Brendan, his head quickly turned to face Steven and he smiled a smile that lit his entire face as he stared in disbelief.

"Steven?" His eyes were full of hope and love and joy showing Steven that Brendan Brady was not about to give up on him.

But Walker had other plans and before Brendan could even react, he had jumped atop him as he furiously grabbed the syringe from his hand. Steven watched as the strength just left Brendan by force as Walker's weight crushed every broken part of him and squeezed out what little breath he had. Brendan coughed and groaned and blood trickled from the side of his open mouth. Even if his hands had not been pinned beneath Walker's knees, Steven was sure that Brendan would not have had the power to fight back. He watched as Brendan's eyes began to droop, knowing that he could not possibly hold out for much longer unless Steven helped.

But what could he do? He was still drugged and disorientated, everything was muffled and he felt as if he was not in control of his own body, but then he saw something. It had fallen from Walker's pocket with a couple of syringes as he had jumped onto Brendan, so angry and distracted that he had not noticed he had dropped it. The gun lay tantalizingly out of reach and Steven strained to grab it. He was a few inches shy of touching it and he shook his head to rid himself of the fuzzy control of the drug and wriggled forward until his fingers wrapped around the cold metal. He flicked what he thought was the safety and raised his eyes to make sure Walker had not noticed what he was doing, only to see him plunge the needle into Brendan's neck.

His reaction was simply pure raw emotion as he raised a shaking hand and pulled the trigger. He didn't even aim the damned thing, simply lifted it and blindly fired the gun, hoping that it hit some part of Walker. The noise was a shock as was the shower of blood that fell upon them, but it roused him and gave him more reason to get up and go to Brendan as Walker was thrown from him.

"Fuck! Look what you did!" Walker cried as he fell on his back and hugged his side. "Shit!" Blood leaked through his fingers as an ominous red patch spread on his clothes, but Steven ignored him and pulled himself to Brendan as quickly as he could, his hopes shattered when he saw him staring at the sky, cold and unmoving.

"Bren?" Brendan's eyes focussed on him for a fraction of a second and the corner of his mouth twitched as if trying to smile. But then his eyes unfocussed again as his eyelids started to close and Steven was sure that he was losing him.

"No no no no! Brendan no!" He patted his face and shook him to make him come back and force him to stay with him, but he knew that Brendan had already been through so much that it was almost too much to ask him to stay. "Brendan please..." Tears streamed down his face and he cursed himself for not stopping Walker quicker.

Sitting back on his haunches, he laid his free hand lightly on Brendan's chest, feeling the reassuring movement of his slow but ragged breathing. He looked around as if expecting to see the specter of death filtering through the trees like a dark cloud, speeding towards Brendan to snatch him away, and panic rose within him. His head shook slowly as his mind baulked at the thought of Brendan dying and leaving him alone in this godforsaken world. They were meant to be together, live and love for many years yet here he was, watching the life ebb away from the man he thought he would spend the rest of his life with.

As he continued to stare at Brendan's ashen face, he heard a soft laughter that grew louder until it was impossible to ignore. He drew his eyes away from Brendan's still face to see Walker sat there, holding his wounded side but perfectly comfortable as if the hole in his side was a mere scratch.

"I really did underestimate you Steven. Not one, but twice." he laughed again, a strange sort of manic laughter that sounded as if it came from a different and much darker personality within Walker. Whether it had just happened or if he had simply hidden it before, it seemed that something had snapped inside Walker's head, turning him into this murderous and spiteful being. "But I never will again."

Steven got slowly to his feet as Walker continued to laugh, determined to strike him with the gun and shut him up. He only managed a few feet before he began to stagger and wobble as his head swam dizzyingly, but he carried on as his chest hitched continually with sobs, raising the gun once more to Walker.

"Sh...sh...shurrup you! How c...c...could you, eh?!" He now stood in front of Walker who simply looked up at him bemusedly, holding his bleeding side as Steven leveled the gun to his head

He might as well have been pointing a feather at him for all the notice that Walker took of the gun, he simply smiled up as Steven felt a wave of nausea hit him. His mind quickly fogged and he swayed dangerously just before his legs collapsed and he suddenly found himself on the ground again. Walker took advantage of the situation and pulled the gun from his hand then grabbed his arms and pinned him to the ground.

"How could I? You have the nerve to ask me how could I?" Walker pushed his face angrily into Steven's. "Fuck sake Steven, grow up and see the real picture! He was a murdering monster!"

"No you're the monster Walker, he couldn't even defend himself!"

"NEITHER COULD CAMERON!" Walker shook him savagely as he shouted and while his neck snapped back and forth, Steven's head struck the ground bringing sparks to his vision and a dullness to his mind. Just as he was on the verge of passing out, Walker stopped shaking him and pulled him up so close that he could feel the mans breath on his face.

"He was a filthy, drug dealing murdering monster, and what is worse, you _know_ it! You are no better than him."

Walker threw him to the ground, but as he fell Steven formed a fist and struck Walker's wounded side as hard as he could and the man crumpled to the side with a cry. Steven fought against blacking out and began to crawl away, only for him to yelp as a hand grabbed his foot and stopped him. He turned to see Walker, red faced and sweating, one hand tightly holding Steven's foot while the other attempted to staunch the bleeding in his side.

"You'll pay for that." He grunted, his fingers digging into the flesh of Steven's ankle.

He looked deranged, insane to the point that it appeared he felt very little pain from the gunshot wound, and seemed so determined to keep going until he had killed Steven. Kicking back with his free foot, Steven managed to pull himself away and along the ground in the direction of Brendan. If he had to die today, he wanted to die by his side.

His heart hammered with fear as he turned his head and saw that Walker had gotten to his feet and was just standing there staring at him while he struggled towards Brendan. His eyes were wild and dangerous as he stood tall and intimidating and he looked every inch the demon that Steven believed him to be. Much to Steven's surprise, he pulled a syringe filled with a clear liquid from his breast pocket, uncapped it and stabbed it into his own thigh, lifting his head high with a pleasured smile and exhaled slowly. He took a few breaths before lowering his head again and when he did, he looked far stronger and more menacing than he had before and Steven cowered closer to the ground.

"Morphine." He answered Steven's unasked question. "The devil is in the details Steven, which is why I took my time with this plan. And why I shall take my time in finishing what I started."

Walker's eyes flashed dangerously and the tone of his voice told Steven that there was much more to Walker's plan than simply killing Brendan and himself. Something told him that even once they were dead, they would not be allowed to rest and the thought chilled him to the bone.

His eyes were drawn to the dark red stain that had grown considerably, blood still oozing from the hole where the bullet had gone through, but Walker didn't seem worried by it and when he saw Steven staring at it, he simply smiled.

"I'm already dead Steven, no need to worry over some spilled blood."

"I weren't." Steven replied as haughtily as he could, "Dunt care if you live or die."

He crept slowly towards Steven who hauled himself backwards along the ground, scampering blindly as he approached. Walker moved like a predator stalking his prey, surefooted and slow, his eyes never leaving him as a wicked smile graced his lips.

Steven recoiled as he bumped into something, relieved to find that it was Brendan's leg and so he continued a little further until he collapsed beside him, panting and scared but relieved that he had made it. He cringed as Walker dropped to his knees by his side, staring at him with those wild eyes as if he was something strange that he had found.

"What was it that he saw in you? What made him change for you?" He asked, peering at Steven as if he was trying to figure him out.

"I...don't know..."

"You see, I have a hard time believing that you," He looked him up and down with a look of distaste, "changed him at all."

He leaned over him and placed his hands at either side of Steven's shoulders, leaning his slender body on top of him, forcing his leg between Steven's as he brought his head down slowly, sensually, studying his face. He tilted his head to the side as if he was trying to see something beneath Steven's skin, causing Steven to shudder beneath him.

"Why did he change for you?" He murmured questioningly, his eyes staring deeply into his.

"Because I loved him." Steven answered, his voice small and terrified. "Because I knew what he was, yeah? Who he was, and I still loved him." his eyes filled up as Walker pressed his face closer until they were almost touching.

"Ahhhh, there it is..." He whispered, a faint smile tugging at his mouth, their noses touching lightly, their lips mere centimeters apart and Steven was screaming inside terrified at the thought of it. "I see it now..."

He shifted and placed a hand on Steven's neck, squeezing his throat lightly, making his eyes widen in horror as that choking sensation came back to him. Then he drew his hand from his throat up the side of his face to his head, where he grabbed his hair and pulled his head back and at an angle as if to see inside him better, staring deeply into Steven's wide terrified eyes.

"...there it is..." He sighed, "Brendan Brady's heart..." his quiet voice was filled with awe, as if he had found something that he had searched a long time for.

Steven was sure that his heart was going to stop, it hammered so loudly that it was all that he could hear and his breaths came in short panicked bursts as those green piercing eyes continued to stare as if viewing his soul. Walker was truly insane, and that is what terrified Steven the most. He knew that there was very little that this man would not do and he lay there frozen in fear and defenseless, sure that no matter if his will to live somehow gave him extra strength, it still would not be enough and he would die at the hands of Walker, no doubt in a very painful way.

The grip on his hair suddenly loosened as Walker's eyes widened in shock, his pupils contracting until they were mere pin pricks and he gasped in surprise, his face registering a myriad of emotions until it ended with a look of shock and disbelief. He let go of Steven's hair and drew himself up slowly as he turned his head to look towards Brendan. Steven could not take his eyes from Walker, sure that should he look away, he would attack him. He was sure that he was hallucinating, seeing something that Steven could not see, so when he heard the harsh, pain filled whisper sound close to his head, he nearly cried out in surprise.

"I told...yeh...Walker...you touch...my...Steven...I'd...kill yeh."

Brendan held a hand to the top of Walker's arm and it took a few seconds for Steven to realise that in that hand were two of the syringes that had fallen next to Brendan when the gun had, and they were now empty. Whether it was the effects of the morphine or simply because he was just so far gone, it took some time for Walker to react, he just sat there staring until he he gasped loudly and closed his eyes.

"Go...to...hell...Walker..."

Walker began to scream and he fell heavily onto Steven who struggled to get out from beneath him. As he convulsed and his screams rent the air, Steven yelled and cried then curled up into a ball, his hands covering his ears as he listened to what could have been his own death. He felt Brendan fold his arm around him and pull him as tight as he was able, and Steven turned and buried his head in his shoulder, sobbing as he listened to Walker die. He felt more than heard the soft soothing words that Brendan murmured to calm him, and he threw his arm carefully over his chest, overcome by the need to hold him as he wept and Brendan gently held him.

He was not sure how long they lay there, listening as Walker suffered, no idea when it was that he stopped making choking noises and fell silent. He just lay there, content to be so close to Brendan, happy that he was alive and he sobbed and cried until his eyes ached, as all the fear and frustrations ebbed away.

"Why yeh...crying gorgeous? We're...alive."

Steven turned himself and leaned up on his elbow, looking into Brendan's tired half closed eyes that were so full of concern it almost stopped his heart. He slowly raised his hand to touch his face, so cold and so pale beneath his fingers that a twist of worry pulled at his stomach. He could hear the awful wheeze coming from Brendan's chest and it made him ill to think of the damage done that would make it rattle so. He drew a finger over his soft lips, wanting so much to feel their soft warmth upon his own that he pulled himself up and kissed him, deeply, meaningfully, and felt those lips respond and return the feelings so imparted in that kiss.

"I thought I'd lost you." He said, his voice breaking as he realized he still might.

"Me...too." Brendan whispered, his eyes closing again.

Steven knew that he had to get him to the hospital, had to get him help and soon.

"Brendan," He shook him lightly to bring him back round, hating the fact that he had to. "Bren, Walker's car, it 'int too far..." He stopped when he saw Brendan shake his head slightly.

"I'm not...making any...car Steven. I'm not...even making...it to...my feet..."

He looked so drained and exhausted that Steven knew it was up to himself to save Brendan, but it meant leaving him here in the cold and growing dark beside Walker. Brendan seemed to sense his internal conflict and raised his hand and placed it on Steven's neck in a reassuring grip.

"I will...be here...waiting for...you." He said and then his eyes finally closed as his hand dropped softly to the ground.

Steven waited and watched him for a little longer, making sure that Brendan did into slip any deeper into his sleep, praying that he wouldn't slip so deep that he would never waken again. When he was satisfied and felt ready, he got to his feet and stood for a moment, a little unsteady and a little scared. But he looked to Brendan again and felt some of his strength return to him. Strength to carry on and find help, and also courage to do the hardest thing he had ever had to do; leave Brendan behind.

He turned and searched Walker's dead body for the car keys, his hands encountering the wet stickiness of his blood and he retched while trying not look into his wide unseeing bloodshot eyes that seemed to stare deep inside him, even in death. Finding the keys, he put them in his pocket and walked to the creek where he rinsed his bloodied hands and threw water onto his face, its ice coolness invigorating him. Just as he went to cross the Creek, he turned once more to Brendan and stalled. He looked so vulnerable laying there, so in danger and for a second Steven could not bear to turn his back on him. But then he ground his teeth and mentally slapped himself, giving himself a shake in order to do what needed done.

"You keep on breathing Brendan Brad'eh," He said as he readied to go, "You keep on breathing for me."

Then Steven Hay turned and crossed the creek, clambering up the other side swiftly. Once he reached the top of the steep bank, he pulled on every last ounce of strength and with much grit and determination, he ran through the trees and out from the woods, leaving Brendan behind, running faster than he ever had in his entire life.

_TBC..._

_:D  
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	10. Chapter 10: Run Boy Run

_**Many thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, can't tell you how much it makes me smile to read your reactions :D**_

_**Time is running out for our two boys, and a change in the pace is required. I hope the structure doesn't confuse you...**_

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Cold and tired, Steven found it increasingly hard to keep going, but he continued to run at the edge of the woods to reach Walker's car as quickly as he was able. Tripping over a branch for the second time, his momentum carried him forward and he fell flat to the ground with a grunt. Cursing himself he got to his feet and carried on, feeling a stitch developing in his side and more than a little winded. By the time he reached the car he was shaking all over and hugging his side as he made strange noises while panting with exertion. Unable to stop, he slammed into the side of the car, sliding down the door to the ground where he sat trying to catch his breath.

Dizziness hit him and he tipped over onto his side as if boneless, panting for air that seemed to be too thick for him to breathe properly. He knew he should get up there but his body refused to move and he just lay there, staring at the tall grass he had just ran from, watching as it blew about in the breeze that had began to pick up. As the lightheadedness passed, he found his body more responsive so he got wearily back to his feet despite the fact that he would gladly have lain there for hours.

As he fumbled in his pocket for the car keys, he caught sight of his reflected image in the door window and nearly cried out in surprise. Even though the light of day was beginning to fade, he could still make out the bruises and cuts that marked his face and he was amazed that he felt so little pain considering the state it was in. Raising a hand he touched his skin almost as if he doubted that it was his own face he was looking at. His left eye looked worse than his right but both were bloodshot and so swollen that he was surprised that he could see out of them at all. His nose was no longer the same shape or angle it once had been, quite clearly broken and in need of realigning. He shuddered and looked away, trying to forget the image as he unlocked the car doors and jumped into the drivers seat.

Another wave of lightheadedness hit him and he knew that there was no way he could drive the car; he would only be a danger to himself and others and he could not take the risk of something happening that would prevent him from getting help to Brendan. This time the dizziness stayed with him and muddled his thinking, adding to his confusion of what to do. He decided to search the car for anything that might help and felt his stomach jump when he found both his own and Brendan's phones in the glove compartment. Brendan's battery was dead but he was glad to find that he had some power left in his and so dialed 999. When the operator answered he quickly hung up, realizing that he had no idea where he was or how he got there so would be unable to guide anyone to their location. He shook with frustration, nearly throwing the mobile smashing into the window until he stopped himself and looked at it. He almost laughed when he found it showed seventeen missed calls and many messages, all from Cheryl.

Her texts went from being pissed at them both for not returning her calls, to worry when they had not checked in after arriving in Glasgow. If only they had reached Glasgow he thought miserably, blaming himself for taking so long to get ready and out of Hollyoaks. He idly wondered if that was the reason why Brendan's phone was dead, owing to the deluge of calls and messages from Cheryl. Just by looking at her messages he was overcome by an overwhelming need to call her; suddenly longing to hear a voice that belonged to a person he knew cared for Brendan and for himself. Hitting redial on one of the missed calls, he found that she had obviously been fretting and evidently had the phone in her hand as it had barely began to ring when she answered it.

"Ste love! Where the hell have yis been?! I've been tryin' to get hold of yis for hours!"

As soon as he heard her relieved voice his throat constricted and he found that he could not speak, making a strange strangled noise instead as he fought to retain his composure. He stared out of the window at the darkening sky, his head shaking dazedly, listening to Cheryl's voice and wishing that she was there to help him and her brother.

"Ste? Ste love, you there?"

"Cheryl..." he choked on more words and heard her take a deep breath, as if preparing herself for bad news.

"Ste?" He heard the rising panic in her voice and suddenly wished that he had not phoned and upset her, especially as he had no way of telling her whether Brendan was alive or dead. "Ste, what's wrong?"

"Something's happened Cheryl and I dunt what to do!" Then the tears came again, flooding his eyes and making his nose run until he was a sniveling mess lost in a haze of misery.

o0o0o0o0o

_His heavy eyelids fluttered until he was able to open them wide and he saw that the day was quickly moving into night. The pervading darkness brought with it a coldness that left him shivering as a moderate breeze blew the chilled air around his body. _

_To Brendan, it felt like hours had passed since Steven had left him to go and find help and as the minutes ticked slowly by, he felt his body slowing down and his remaining blood seemed to cool in his veins. He knew that his time was quickly running out yet he was not scared, nor was he exactly at peace with the thought, but he was resigned to the fact that no matter how fast Steven ran, help might not come soon enough to save him. The pain that had so wracked his body earlier in the day had ebbed away until all that he felt was a curious numbness that permeated his entire body, bringing with it a tired relief that scared him. He tried to keep his eyes opened, fearing that should he fall asleep he would not waken again. But they sometimes closed of their own volition and he would fight to open them as he felt himself being pulled towards that welcoming deep sleep that frightened him so much. _

_No matter how hard he fought it, the pull towards that unconscious realm was too great and he felt his mind become more sluggish. As his eyes started to close again, his addled mind saw an image of Steven's beaten face hovering above him as it had done earlier, floating before his tired closing eyes. He smiled as he remembered the heat of his lips on his own and was glad to have had those last few moments with him. He raised his hand up to touch Steven's face only for the image to fade and disappear and he dropped his hand to the ground as his eyes closed. Soft voices seemed to carry on the breeze and he was sure that he heard someone call his name just as he blacked out. _

o0o0o0o0o_  
_

"Cheryl?" When he didn't get a reply he looked at the phone, finding that the battery was drained completely.

But the brief conversation he had with Cheryl bolstered his determination to bring Brendan home from this horrendous situation, it was just a matter of getting help. He twisted about in the car, looking for something, anything that might help and that was when he remembered the road that he had seen across the field earlier in the day. Suddenly he had hope again so pushed open the door and exited the car in a hurry, tripping himself up and landing with a jarring impact on his knees. He found it was not as easy to get back up this time, his tired body weakening the more he pushed it and he had to pull himself up the side of the car in order to get back to his feet. When he had steadied himself and shook the fogginess from his mind, he took a deep breath and ran towards the road that he could only just make out in the distance, hoping to flag down a car for help. He was not sure he would make it as every time his feet hit the dirt track he felt a little bit more of his strength drain from him as his body screamed to be at peace and rest.

His chest burned and the cold night air did nothing to make breathing easy, but he continued to run, pumping his arms to push each stride that little bit further, wishing to reach the road as quickly as he could. He could see the entry to the dirt track road looming ahead and as he tired to make his legs go even faster they responded by nearly giving way and he staggered all over the place until his feet slid on loose stones. He threw out his arms in an attempt to regain his balance to no avail and he landed with a thud that forced the air from his lungs. He pushed himself onto one knee and as he tried to stand he tumbled again, sprawling on the ground with a cry of frustration. When he finally succeeded in getting to his feet, his strength was almost spent and as he began to run again, it was with less speed and grace than before.

But he eventually made it and burst onto the road with an air of triumph, feeling the firm asphalt beneath his feet and smiling as he leaned over, gasping down huge gulps of air. It wasn't until he straightened back up that he nearly keeled over with crushing disappointment when he noted that he could not hear or see any sign of traffic on the length of road. There were no cars and no reason for any to stop; the road was just an empty stretch to nowhere and no one.

"No!" He shouted in exasperation as his hope began to dwindle.

Darkness crept in as he stood there, his head turning back and forth in search of even a hint that a car was coming, but there was nothing, not even the smallest glint of headlights in the distance. Steven whimpered then as anger built in his chest he opened his mouth and roared at the injustice of it all, pouring all of his frustration and fear into it until he fell silent and cried.

o0o0o0o0o

_Something soft and warm brushed against his cheek and he moaned as he opened his eyes to see what it was. Night had already descended, surrounding him in a darkness in which he could see practically nothing, but he was sure that someone or something was close by, watching him from somewhere in the shadowed world surrounding him._

"_Steven?" His hoarse whisper disappeared unanswered into the darkness as if he had never spoken. _

_A deep throaty hoot sounded somewhere nearby, the sound both lonely and haunting and it filled Brendan with a lasting melancholy. A familiar masculine scent blew over him on the breeze and he was at once both aroused and angered by it. Walker's scent always did that to him, bringing back memories so vivid that they could have happened yesterday, and he cursed the fact that he lay so close to the bastard._

_The scent grew stronger and his mind went into overdrive as he imagined that Walker was in fact sitting next to him and that it might have been him that had brushed his cheek. Yet he knew that Walker was dead, he had made sure of it when he had injected not one but two syringes of his hateful narcotic into his system. But he couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps Walker had somehow survived. He worried over it until he heard the owl cry followed by a screaming fox bark and realized it had probably been an animal that had touched him. But then the sound of breaking twigs sounded nearby, the noise of which sent an icy chill of fear through his already cold body. But he was already being pulled back towards unconsciousness, his mind becoming hazy as he fell into a stupor with the terrifying thought that he was not alone in the woods._

_o0o0o0o  
_

Never in all of his life had Steven been so glad to see something as utterly mundane as a pair of car headlights. They shone brightly up ahead like a beacon of hope that Steven watched until they became so bright they nearly blinded him. This was the first car to even have come passed since he had got there and with a fear that it might be the only one to travel the road tonight, he was intent to make it stop for him no matter what. As the car sped towards him, he threw himself out in front of it, his arms waving madly as he screamed for it to stop.

The driver hit the brakes and the car skidded noisily to a halt mere inches from Steven who had fallen to his knees in front of the car in complete exhaustion. The driver threw open his door, shouting angrily as he exited the car only to quieten when he saw the mess of the man who sat caught in the light from his headlights. He seemed almost afraid to approach, standing just behind his open door as he appraised the situation.

"You alright there son?" He finally said, coming out from behind the door to stand just at the side of it.

Steven raised his head slowly, unable to see the man properly as the lights blinded him, not even having the strength to raise a hand and shield his eyes. He had no idea what to say and sat there silently mouthing as his entire body shook. He saw the man hurry towards him, finally saw his face as he came into the light, and saw the look of horror that crossed his features as he knelt next to him.

"Ste? Steven, my God son, what's happened to you?!"

He blinked and stared at the face, at first not recognizing the man, while wondering how he even knew his name.

"Steven son, what's happened? What're you doing out here?"

Then it hit him, he knew that voice, that accent and his eyes opened wide in recognition.

"Jack?" Steven was sure he was seeing things as Jack Osborne pulled off his jacket and placed it on his shaking frame.

Jack kept a hand on his shoulder, steadying him as he trembled and sobbed. He stared into Jack's large brown, worried eyes and thanked whatever deity had listened to his silent prayers for help. An image of Brendan laying dying in the woods alone entered his mind and the words that had seemed to hard to get out flowed easily and he tried to tell Jack everything that had happened, not realizing that he was merely rambling incoherent words that made little sense.

"Calm down son, what's this about Brendan, eh?"

"Oh God Jack! You gotta help him!"

Jack's brows knitted together and he looked around them, anxiously, searching for any sign of the Irishman then looked back to Steven when he saw no trace of him.

"Where is Brendan Steven?" When Steven didn't reply, he turned his face until his scared eyes looked at him. "Steven, where is Brendan son, what's happened to him?"

"I think he's dying Jack! I think he might already be dead!"

o0o0o0o0o

"_I know...yer there...Walker..." His words were met by silence and he shook his head minutely as he thought of how insane he sounded, talking to a dead man. "I know...yer there...yeh bastard."_

_The coldness had seeped deep into his bones and he was sure it had less to do with the chilled night air and more to do with the fact that he was dying. Despite this knowledge, he was still afraid as he lay there helpless with the thought of Walker pacing around in the darkness. But he knew it was madness, there was no-one watching him in the darkness, not even Walker could have survived the double dose. _

_The lonely owl hooted again and he heard it take flight as its wings flapped loudly, and he was conscious of the fact that not even his feathered companion would be around to comfort him in his final moments, he would die alone. Again he heard words spoken on the breeze, unable to make out what they were saying, believing them to simply the effects of the breeze blowing through some inanimate object. _

_He began to think of what had happened to bring him here, to this point in time to die in this wretched patch of land. Of course it had started with his father, it always started with his father. It was his need to be free of his fathers influence and innuendos that had brought him to this here place, he had simply ran from one hell only to land in another in which he was sure he would ultimately die. In his wildest dreams he never would have imagined running into Walker again; he was sure the man had disappeared for good and that their paths would never cross again. He rolled his eyes then closed them, pissed at his own misfortune, but when he opened them again he saw Steven and Cheryl standing on either side of him, arms folded and smiling down at him. _

_He wasn't surprised they were there, he had expected to see them at some point; they were after all the two people he loved most of all and knew that they loved him in return regardless of what he was, so it stood to reason that they would be the ones his mind would conjure in order to comfort him in his final moments. Cheryl had that knowing smile that she often flashed at him when she felt she knew more about him that he did himself, while Steven had that coy alluring smile that he reserved only for Brendan._

"_Can we go now love," Cheryl asked as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms,"It's a bit chilly you know."_

"_Here, when we get home, right? I'm gonna heat yer right up." Steven said with a wink, secrets in his eyes._

"_Oh I bet...you'll try..." Brendan whispered with a smile. _

_He knew that they really were not there, simply figments of his imagination pulled forth from his mind to ease his loneliness, and they disappeared when he truly felt himself fading. Everything until now had simply been a practice run, this was the real deal. His heart was so slow and everything felt, right. Everything was as it should be. Steven was safe, Cheryl was happy and Walker was dead. He could die now, safe in the knowledge that he had, in the end, protected them, the peace in his mind easing him towards that forever blackness that hovered so temptingly before him. But then those words returned to him, the ones that reminded him that his life belonged in the hands and heart of another and that he could not let that person down. _

"_You keep on breathing Brendan Brad'eh, you keep on breathing for me." _

"_No problem...Steven." He whispered as he faded, hoping that he could hang on just that little bit longer as the voices that had carried on the wind now screamed around him. _

_o0o0o0o0o  
_

"But I don't know where we are!" Steven said as Jack handed him his mobile while turning the car down the dirt track road.

"_I_ know where we are Steven, just dial, I'll tell you what to say!"

The car wasn't going fast enough for Steven and he fidgeted as he repeated Jack's instructions to the emergency services operator. He stared out the window intently, eager to get back to Brendan while worrying if they would get to him in time. Despite being in the car, it took a few minutes to reach Walker's car, he had not realised he had ran such a fair distance to flag down help. It meant that he had been away from Brendan for longer than he first thought and that cruel worm of panic ate away at his insides as he wondered if Brendan was still alive.

Steven already had the door opened as Jack pulled the car in front of Walker's and shone the beams in an attempt to light their way. He bolted into the tall grass, leaving Jack to rummage in the boot for a torch and blanket as he ran shouting Brendan's name until he went hoarse. But he had no idea where he had left Brendan, and the darkness made it that much harder to see the spot where he had breached the edge of the woods. He ran from one spot to another with no idea of what to do or where to go so just stood at the edge shouting on Brendan while peering into the shadows and hoping for a reply that he was sure would never come. Jack caught up with him and shone the torch up and down the tree line, searching for anything that might help to jog Steven's memory or give a hint as to where they should go. It wasn't until he tripped over a branch and cursed that Steven realised that they were exactly where they should be then ran straight into the darkness through the trees, Jack following behind, both their voices rising into the cold night as they searched for Brendan.

Suddenly the ground beneath Steven's feet disappeared and he went tumbling down the side of the embankment that he had climbed earlier, falling into into the freezing cold water of the creek. He landed with a yelp and a splash making Jack call out for him as he shone the torch around before cautiously climbing down to help him. Steven had already dragged himself from the water, soaking and shivering while his wide eyes followed the light of the torch as it swept across the area. He cried out as the light fell upon the still figure lying a few meters from the creek, then he was running again, screaming Brendan's name.

"Brendan! It's me! Brendan, I've brought help!" Brendan didn't respond and when he slid to a stop by his side, Steven got down to his knees and reached forward. "Brendan?" He sobbed as he lifted his lovers hand, shocked when he felt how very cold it was. "Bren?"

A terrible pain ripped through his chest and he cried as anguish filled his spirit and tore him to pieces. "Bren..." He said quietly as he collapsed onto Brendan's chest, sobbing for the man he had failed to save, hating himself for taking too long to find help.

Jack got down on one knee and placed the blanket over Brendan's still form, his heart breaking for Steven as he watched him collapse in helpless tears at Brendan's side. The first sign that help was on its way was when sirens sounded in the far distance, but Jack did not hold out too much hope as he looked upon that drained pale face caught in his torch light. He reached forward and gently placed his fingers to Brendan's neck, not expecting to find anything from the drained cold figure that lay before him.

"Oh my God." He whispered when he felt the very weak and thready pulse beating away beneath his fingertips. Shining the torch so that more light fell on Brendan's face, Jack saw his eyes move beneath his eyelids and shook Steven. "Steven! Steven he's still alive son!"

While they waited on the arrival of the ambulance, neither of them noticed the very obvious fact, that Simon Walker's body was no where in the vicinity.

_TBC..._

_Go on, you know you want to feed me! Feed me cookie comments!  
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	11. Chapter 11: Sister Feelings Call

_**I'm sorry I have taken so long to update, I ran into some creative block and despite knowing the story, was unable to write it. But I have now and glad to put it up before heading to bed :D Thank you to everyone who continues to leave me comments and feedback, I enjoy them all and try to respond to them as best I can, and for those who I am unable to reply, thank you too! :D Anyway, on with the show...**_

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"_Good job I had an argument with Frankie__,__ I wouldn't have been out driving otherwise. But don't tell her I said that, __eh__?" _

Jack had been a godsend and Steven didn't want to even think about how it might have ended had he not been driving that road last night. He had kept his cool and given them both the chance to survive, something which Steven would always be grateful to him for. When the rescue crews had finally arrived, Jack had been the one to guide them to the scene and they had set to work straight away stabilizing Brendan for transport to the hospital. Steven had felt someone place a blanket over his shoulders and gently check him over while he watched the other paramedics working on Brendan. Jack had even spoken with the police, giving them all the information that he had in order to spare Steven questioning until later, but he had approached Steven with a puzzled look on his face when the officers had began to look the area over.

"_Steven, I thought you said Simon Walker was here?"_

"_He is, he's...where is he?"_

Steven then found himself unable to speak, his brain having froze as it failed to comprehend what Jack was implying; that Walker had somehow survived Brendan's attack. He had stood there open mouthed in shock, his mind reeling, then his entire body went limp as his mind closed down with the thought that Walker was out there, watching them.

When he woke again, he was in the accident and emergency feeling drowsy and nauseous and his face hurt so badly he wanted to cry. Instead, he looked across the room to where a group of people hurried and shouted orders over the bed of a silent unconscious man. Brendan was laid out on a gurney, surrounded by a team of doctors and nurses who worked tirelessly to keep him alive. Steven watched the scene, too numb to feel much, hollow and cold inside. He watched until a doctor approached and pulled the curtains closed around his own bed, then listened to the noise on the other side of the curtains until the medicine the doctor had given him kicked in. The rest was a blur; long confusing hours where his pain was dulled and his over stimulated tired mind tried to sleep.

Now he was in a ward and lay on a hard uncomfortable hospital bed with sheets so rough they felt like sandpaper on his tender skin. The harsh hospital light above him hurt his sensitive eyes, making him raise a hand to shield them only to feel his muscles instantly cramp up and he hissed at the pain. His hands were bandaged up past his wrists, hiding the awful injures he had suffered when he freed himself; the plastic ties that had bound him had cut deeply into his wrists with his struggles and had also skinned the back of both hands. They ached and burned intensely beneath the dressings and their pain was worse than his now reset nose. His throat was raw and kept reminding him of the long awful moments that he and Jack had spent, watching the flashlights of the rescue crew through the trees, screaming for them to hurry up as Brendan had continued to slip away. Every muscle in his body felt like it was burning, every joint felt as if it had worn out and he tried to move only to stop when it felt like too much bother. But he was getting restless waiting for news on Brendan.

Every time someone came in to check on him he asked about Brendan, but no one seemed willing to give him any answers. He understood that since he wasn't his next of kin there was only so much they could tell him, but he wasn't being told anything except he was critical but stable and these words did nothing to ease his troubled mind. Finally he gave up asking and decided to find out himself. Throwing back the rough sheets he gingerly pulled himself into a slanted sitting position, careful not to dislodge the tubing in his arm which led to bags of fluid and antibiotics being drip fed into his body. He gripped the wheeled drip stand tightly and maneuvered himself from the bed, his legs seizing as his feet touched the cold of the floor. For a moment his body seemed to scream and he wondered if he was even going to make it past the curtains that were pulled closed around his bay, but then everything calmed down until it felt as if he might actually make it.

Like an old tired man, he shuffled slowly from behind the curtains, looking around the busy ward to make sure his exit would not be seen. He wore little more than a hospital gown, but he did not care, he had to see Brendan. He managed to stagger as far as the doors to the ward and had placed one foot into the corridor when the shout came from behind him.

"Mr Hay? Mr Hay!" He ignored the calling voice, knowing that it only shouted on him to return him to his bed.

"Mr Hay, I need you return to your bed, you should not be up and around just yet."

Steven continued to ignore the woman as he walked unsteadily down the hospital corridor, pushing the drip stand in front of him while using it to keep his balance. The nurse caught up with him and placed a blanket over his shoulders but Steven didn't stop, determined to get to where he wanted to be.

"Mr Hay, where are you going?" The nurse asked, keeping the slow pace with him.

"To see me boyfriend." He replied without so much as a glance at the nurse, squaring his jaw and tilting his head obstinately. But he was aware of her worried glances and could see from the corner of his eye the empathic look upon her face.

"If I take you to see him, will you come back to the ward with me?"

Steven nodded, thankful that at last someone was going to help him.

"Let me just get you a wheelchair."

"No, I can walk fine, me." He knew that he was being unnecessarily rude, but he just wanted to see Brendan and didn't want to wait any longer.

The nurse shook her head resignedly and walked with him further down the corridor and into the intensive care ward which ran adjacent to his ward. The mood here was very different to the hectic ward he had just left. While his ward got people well enough to either go home or to another ward, this one worked solely to keep people alive until they were stable enough to move. The bays were different, more roomy to allow for all of the equipment and, should it be required, to allow the movement of a specialist team in the event of an emergency. The place was noisy, filled with the alarms and chimes of many machines and the voices of the staff who worked diligently for the patients under their care. There were not as many beds as his ward either, easier for the staff to concentrate on the very ill and it struck Steven how very close to losing Brendan he really was.

They walked passed a couple of bays before his eyes snapped on the poor soul lying in the bed nearest the nurses station; it was Brendan. He lay amidst machines and lengths of tubing and cabling which breathed for him, monitored him, hydrated him and ultimately kept him alive. There were bags of fluids, pumps and monitors with numbers and lines that he did not understand. There was constant noise that beeped, chimed, whooshed and scared him. He swayed a little as he looked upon that slack sleeping face, the large breathing tube pulsing slightly each time air was forced into Brendan's lungs and Steven suddenly had some insight into how Brendan must have felt on the day of the crash, when he had looked upon Steven in his coma; utterly devastated.

He felt hands gently guiding him onto a wheelchair that seemed to have appeared from nowhere, making him sit down before he fell down. The nurse positioned the chair right next to Brendan's bed and pulled on the brakes. His eyes never left Brendan's face as she made sure he was okay before leaving him to speak to her colleagues. Reaching out, he lifted Brendan's hand, noting how much warmer it was now than it had been last night when he had held it in the darkness. Brendan's face had been cleaned and the glass which had been embedded in his skin, removed. The large wound on his head was covered by a dressing while his broken arm was now in a cast and resting at his side. A long tube came from beneath the covers into a plastic container that rested beside the bed and Steven recognised it as a chest drain, knowing now why Brendan's breathing had been accompanied by the strange wheeze. He was still very pale but less than he had been, a small flush of colour on his otherwise pallid cheeks probably owing to the influx of fresh blood from the bag suspended on one of the the drip stands next to the bed. He looked so small and so very vulnerable laying there, unable to breath for himself, unconscious and confined to a bed in which he had no idea he was lying.

Steven felt very lost and alone as he continued to stare at Brendan, wishing that he would wake up and tell him everything was okay. He felt almost bereft of emotion as he sat there, not quite sure what it was that he was meant to feel, looking upon the unconscious face of the man who had held onto every ounce of strength he had, just because Steven had asked him to. He felt his bottom lip quiver then his shoulders shook as he cried silently, rocked by massive uncontrolled sobs that took him by surprise. He wiped angrily at the tears that had began to fall, feeling that he had to be strong, not sitting there crying like a fool in full view of anyone to see but he could not help it and they continued to fall regardless of what he wanted. He rubbed at Brendan's hand nervously as if the sensation might bring Brendan round, noting the dirt embedded in parts of his skin and his torn, ragged fingernails. It took him a moment to realise he was no longer alone and turned his head to see the nurse that had helped him here, watching him as she approached the bed. He wiped at his face again, embarrassed at the tears that soaked his face.

"Are you okay?" she asked, to which he nodded vigorously, then wished he hadn't when the room began to spin slowly. "I've spoken with his nurse and she has said that you can stay for a short while if you feel up to it." He nodded again and thanked her. "His sister is on her way and should be here shortly. I'll pop back in a bit, help you back to the ward." She smiled reassuringly then left, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Only a few moments passed when he heard the click of Cheryl's heels hastily approaching, and he turned to see her worried face as she hurried up the ward towards him.

"Oh Ste love!" She said as she got to the bedside, leaning forward and giving him a peck on the cheek and small gentle hug. "I only went home to freshen up. If I thought you'd be awake I'd have stayed."

"It's ok."

"Awww look at whit they did teh yis!" She said as tears filled her eyes and threatened to ruin her freshly applied makeup. "Have the police been in to speak to yeh yet? They were in 'ere earlier, as if ar' Brendan could tell them anything!" She looked at her brother sadly, her head shaking as if she did not believe it was Brendan in the bed before her.

"I dunt know if they've been. Only just woke and came here."

"Oh Ste, you shouldn't be up and around love, no wonder you look so pale!"

He shook his head, he didn't feel any different to what he had last night, maybe a little more rested but not any worse and he knew that he couldn't just lie in bed thinking about Brendan when he could be here at his side. Cheryl pulled a chair close to the bed, sitting herself down opposite Steven as she pulled a tissue from her bag and dabbed beneath her eyes.

"God he looks so ill. He didn't even look as bad as this when the holiday home blew up with him in it." She said.

"He'll be fine." Was all Steven could say, though he hardly believed it himself.

"Will he be Ste? Coz I'm having a hard time seeing him come out of this one!" She rocked with great wracking sobs and made a strange strangled noise as she tried to stifle a cry behind the hand she had suddenly clamped to her mouth as large tears dripped from her eyes. But even though Steven felt and understood her pain, he could not help but be angry with her.

"How can you say that Cheryl! He's not dead yet so don't treat him like he is, right? I'm not giving up on him."

Cheryl managed to compose herself after a few minutes and an uneasy silence fell between them as she tugged the hospital gown up on Brendan's shoulder where it had slipped down, dabbing her eyes and nose at the same time. She smoothed her hand over Brendan's face and exhaled a long tremulous sigh.

"Jack said when yis got back to him, he thought Bren was dead." Cheryl said absently, her eyes dreamlike as if she could almost see the scene that had been his nightmare last night. "He said Walker's car had gone by the time he had gotten back to his." Steven nodded his head, his jaw tightening at the name and remembering dropping the car keys when he fell from the car.

She looked towards Steven, her wet eyes widening as she halted her hand on Brendan's face. "So he must have been hiding while you two looked for ar' Brendan then? Oh Ste pet, you could have ran straight into him."

"I know, proper scary that." He shook his head with a wry smile. "But if...if I had ran into him, I...I..."

"Oh Ste." She reached over and held his hand, squeezing it tightly before releasing it and looking back to Brendan with a sad sigh.

"I wonder how he's gonna react when he hears that bastard's still out there somewhere."

Steven suddenly felt a great wave of inexplicable anxiety at the thought of Brendan finding out that despite his actions, Walker was still alive. He was not sure if the feeling came from the fact that Brendan had given everything to protect Steven, and regardless of all he had done, Walker still posed a threat. How Brendan would react to this Steven did not know, but he did know that he didn't want him finding out before he was ready.

"He dunt need to know Cheryl, and don't you tell him, right? He only kept on going 'cause he thought he were protecting me, him thinking he killed Walker were the only reason he held on! Promise me you wont tell him until he's ready!"

"But Ste love, he has ter know! What if he comes back for ar' Bren and he doesn't know he's alive?"

"He won't right? Trust me, I'll deal with it on me own if he comes back, right?"

"Yeh can't even look after yerself Ste!" She laughed derisively.

"Please Cheryl, dunt tell him 'til he's ready." He wasn't even ready to accept it himself, and knew that these confusing feelings came from the place in his head in which he still cowered beneath Walker's body and intense glare, sure that he would never escape it. "Cheryl please."

Something in his voice made the smirk freeze on Cheryl's face and her brows crease together in worry, as if she suddenly understood that his feelings and thoughts were not exactly fully rational.

"Alright love, I won't say anything until he is ready, okay?"

Steven nodded his head and changed the conversation, feeling uncomfortable at his strange frame of mind.

"Here, you know Walker's cousin, right? Jack said he'd an anarism or something."

"Aneurysm?"

"Yeah, that. You don't think...?"

Cheryl looked down at her hands, not quite able to reach his eyes.

"Ar' Brendan's always been a fighter Ste, you only need look at what's happened ter him in the past two years ter know that. But sometimes, peoples luck just...runs out..."

"So you're giving up on him, yeah?" He just could not control himself and cursed his emotions that seemed to run so close to the surface that everything he said came out brusque and angry sounding.

"No love! I'm just saying, maybe this time...well we need to be ready, just in case."

Silence fell again as they both contemplated her words. Steven knew that Cheryl had spent more time in hospitals with Brendan over the years than she ever should have needed to. He was aware that she had been in this very position more times that he knew, and that every time she would wonder if it was Brendan's last time; his luck had to give out eventually. But he just could not give up on Brendan now, not when they had worked so hard to stay alive.

Just then a woman approached and introduced herself as the ward doctor and Steven recognised her as the one who had treated him last night in the emergency room.

"I wonder if I might have a talk with you in private Miss Brady."

"Whatever yeh have ter say, say it in front of us both." Cheryl replied, showing Steven a weak but warm smile. "Ste here is family."

The doctor nodded as she pulled the curtains closed and stood at the end of the bed with her notes.

"As you know, we have managed to stabilise your brother, but as yet he has shown no signs of willful movement or waking. The next forty eight hours will tell us more about his condition and we will be carrying out more tests this afternoon."

"What do you mean no willful movement, what does that even mean?" Cheryl interrupted, her eyes wide and worried.

"It means that Mr Brady is in a coma and we will not know the extent of the damage incurred by the AG11."

"What's AG11?" She asked confused.

"It is the name of the narcotic that was used on both your brother and Mr Hay, more commonly known as Blue Fire. There are still large amounts of AG11 in Mr Brady's system but the levels are falling slowly and we hope to know more in the next forty eight hours when the levels have dropped completely. It has to be said that the dose he was given over a prolonged period was exceedingly high and I worry what damage might have been done."

"How'd you mean?" Steven finally found his voice.

"AG11 has been known to induce strokes, heart attacks, it can leave people with severe brain damage…are you alright Mr Hay?"

Steven had began to shake and Cheryl looked at him with concern as the doctor walked round and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine." But he wasn't, he was most certainly not alright. Steven looked towards the man in the hospital bed and felt his lip tremble again."When will you know? Like, that he's not, you know….?"

"Well, we won't know anything until we have done more tests, and ultimately, if and when he wakens."

"What you mean if? You mean...he might be like this forever?"

The doctor grimaced, looking from Steven to a shaken Cheryl to Brendan and back to her clipboard.

"Mr Hay, you need to understand that not only was he given one of the most potent drugs out there, but he was also in a road traffic accident that has left him with considerable…."

"You think I don't know that?" He said with a raised voice, getting to his feet as his hands gripped the bed rails. "I were there, right? I were there, I saw it. I…I saw it all and…" The room was spinning and his legs were threatening to give way, then Cheryl was suddenly next to him, holding him while all the grief and mental anguish that had been so close to the surface broke through and crushed him.

"Mr Hay I think it is best that you…"

"It's okay Doctor, I'll look after him." Cheryl managed to say, holding him tighter as she helped him back down into the wheelchair. She knelt beside the chair and looked up into his battered face as she smoothed his hair.

"Ste love, do yer want to..."

"No, I'm not leaving him..."

"Alright pet, alright." She brushed her fingers though his hair and looked towards the doctor, who nodded sympathetically and left them alone behind the closed curtains. She brought her chair around and sat it next to Steven then leaned over the arm of his to hold him.

"He'll be alright love." She said as she rocked him gently, much like the way Brendan did when he was upset, calming and reassuring him. "If he's gonna come back fer anyone, he'll come back fer you. All they're sayin' is that we should be prepared, yeah?"

He nodded his head as he straightened himself in the chair, the room still spinning crazily but a little less so. He knew that he should be resting in his own bed, but the urge to be near Brendan was too much to ignore. He could not even think of not being near him, he needed to be there when he woke and no one was going to stop him.

"I'm not giving up on him, right? I'm not."

Cheryl nodded her head as she wiped away her tears, not caring about her makeup anymore. She leaned her head on Steven's shoulder and sighed as she pickled up Brendan's hand.

"Yis are both the same you two, yeh know that? He was the same that day yeh were the one lying in the hospital bed, just as upset, just as angry. He never gave up on yer and I know yeh won't give up on him." She lifted her head to look at him and placed her arm around his shoulder. "I'd expect no less from either of yis."

"Thanks Cheryl."

Cheryl placed her head back on Steven's shoulder and he bend his over until his head rested on hers. They sat like that for a while, neither of them having the words or strength to continue to speak, both wanting to be strong for the other, but neither really coping at all as Brendan lay there oblivious to all around him. Steven listened to the rhythmic noises of the machines, finding that in a weird way they were quite soothing and he soon found himself nodding off, his eyes slowly closing as he leaned more heavily onto Cheryl. But his peace was short lived when it was shattered as the machines began to alarm loudly in warning, scaring them both witless.

The curtains were thrown back and people ran to the bedside, pulling Steven's wheelchair from the bay and into the corridor out of the way. Cheryl stood beside him, her eyes wide as fresh tears tracked down her face.

"Mr Brady?" The doctor asked as she opened Brendan's eyes and shone a light in them, checking the pupils for reaction. "Mr Brady can you hear me?"

The machines continued to alarm and the noise was frightening. Brendan began writhing in the bed and the doctor and nurses had difficulty getting near him.

"What's happening to him?!" Cheryl's voice was shrill and scared and suddenly they were both herded down to the visitors room to wait, the nurse explaining that the doctor would come and see them when she could.

The waiting room was tiny and claustrophobic and stank of babies puke and detergent. Old torn magazines lay haphazardly on the small table and a water tower bubbled occasionally in the corner of the room. It felt as if they had been forgotten as time passed and no one came to see them, only adding to their anxiety. Cheryl paced back and forth clearly agitated, her heels clicking on the hard floor irritatingly as Steven sat in his wheelchair rubbing his head. The painkillers he had been given earlier were waring off as his head, face and body just began to throb with pain which was growing stronger by the second. Cheryl's constant pacing began to annoy him and just when he was sure he could not take it any longer, the doctor walked in and they both looked at her expectantly, preparing themselves for the worst.

"He's awake." She said with a smile as she saw the relief wash over them both. "He's not out of the woods yet, but it's a good sign."

"Can we see him?" Steven asked, gritting his teeth against the building pain in his body.

"Yes, for a few minutes at least. He is still very weak and you, Mr Hay are also still very ill." She looked at him sternly as if she knew that he was trying to hide his pain and he smiled back at her meekly, grateful that she wasn't just going to push him back to his own ward.

They quickly made their way out of the waiting room and into the ward, eager to see Brendan. Cheryl pushed Steven's wheelchair and the closer they got, they could see that Brendan had been disconnected from his breathing tube and lay with is eyes closed tightly in an attempt to squeeze out the harsh lighting above him. Cheryl's heels clicked on the hard floor and Brendan turned his head towards the sound and opened his eyes.

He looked so drained and ill but he managed a wide smile and his face lit up full of joy merely at the sight of them. He attempted to straighten himself up in the bed but was clearly too weak, only managing little more than a shrug at best. Steven could do nothing but shake his head incredulously while smiling back, the relief at seeing Brendan awake washing over him and soothing his taxed mind. When they reached the bed, Steven reached forward and took his hand, feeling Brendan squeeze his and hold it as tightly as he was able. His mouth opened and he whispered Steven's name while looking at him as if he was the only thing in the entire world worth looking at and suddenly the ward was not the scary place it had been, suddenly the machines did not sound so ominous and suddenly, Steven realised that Brendan Brady had kept his promise, and had kept on breathing for him.

_TBC..._

_Finally a little break from the angst? I think you were due it...for now... Feed me cookie comments! :D_


	12. Chapter 12: Waiting To Fail

_**I have been unable to reply to all the lovely comments so far, but I intend to very soon! To those who I can not reply, know that your words carry this story on, and I am grateful for the time you all take to let me know what you think. Now, you have had your breather, the story continues and our boys are not out of the woods yet...so to speak... Trust The Dragon, she wont write you wrong ;)**_

* * *

He had suffered in silence as they sat beside him, unwilling to add to their worry with his own. Hurting all over and trying not to show it, Brendan simply lay shaking or nodding his head when required or smiling when the need arose when all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and whimper. Seeing Cheryl and Steven within moments of his wakening, their shining eyes and smiles at seeing him awake had warmed his heart, but even though he wanted them to stay and comfort him for longer, he wished them away almost as soon as they had arrived. With his wakening came the realization that things were not quite right and the pain that seemed to be a never changing constant in his life continued to torture him and he needed time alone to process what was wrong.

The longer they sat, the weaker he became and it was apparent that his internal struggling was taking its toll on his newly awakened body, knowing that soon he would succumb and sleep again for some unknown time, yet he wished to stay awake if only to speak to the doctor or nurses regarding his worries. He was a little relieved if not a little concerned when Steven's head began to bob with fatigue, his eyelids closing despite all of his protests that he was fine and did not need to sleep. He was even more relieved when the nurse from Steven's ward returned to take him back to bed, prompting Cheryl to take her leave, both promising to come back later in the evening.

In the entire time they had sat with him he had not uttered a word nor a sound, and as soon as they had left the ward he had moaned low and long as bitter tears streamed down his face. The nurses came and helped him, changing his position in an attempt to make him more comfortable but failing to do so. Before he could mention anything of his concerns, his eyes closed and he fell into an uneasy sleep only to waken up alone ten minutes later with cramping in his legs. Time passed so slowly in this place that he found himself drifting in and out of sleep whether he wanted to or not. When he was awake he did little more than stir beneath the covers, not fully able to move as he was so debilitated.

He was awake now and as he lay there he stared out of the window across from his bay, to the grey sky outside. He watched the movement of the trees that blew gently in the wind, sending a shiver down his spine with the dark memories they invoked. Turning his head away from the window, a frown tugged at his lips as he pressed his head back into the pillow while listening to the cries of the man suffering in the bed nearest him.

His frown was not borne from either tiredness or loneliness, but from the fear that ate at his insides. He was scared for a number of reasons, the least of which being the fact that every time he closed his eyes he was pulled back into the nightmare of last night, his mind replaying over and over the pain and torture in accurate detail which left him sweating and breathless. But the thing that scared him most was neither the memories of last night nor the nightmares that they induced, it was the reality in which he found himself, where his body no longer worked the way it once had.

He could only see a disconcerting opaqueness in his right eye, nothing more than a cloudy haze through which nothing but some dim light penetrated. A couple of times he had woken from the fitful frequent naps he seemed incapable of avoiding, only to jump a little in fright as a person moved beside him that he had not seen, blind to everything at his right side unless he turned his head. It was during one such incident when a nurse moved beside him and he jumped, that his other worry was all but confirmed to him. Since then he had been continually moving his arms and legs as best he could, which was not much anyway, in order to test them against each other. He found that the power between both sides of his body was unequal and strange numb like sensation had spread from the tip of his head to the end of his right toes. He could hardly raise his right arm at all, the cast weighing it down to much for its reduced strength to move and the strange numbness just made it impossible. He could still _feel_ the right side of his body, still feel pain and pressure, but the strength in that side just felt reduced.

He tried not to panic, attempting to rationalize the blindness and numbness but failing to come up with an explanation that would mean an easy restoration to his original health. When he dared to think that this might be permanent, his mood crashed as he thought on how his life might be changed so considerably and he could almost hear Walker laughing at him mockingly. He didn't have the strength or even the will to attempt to get out of the bed and test his body, but then he no longer had any inclination to mention it to the doctor or nurses in fear that they might confirm his suspicions and shatter him.

When the doctor had come to check him over, what he _did_ mention was the persistent severe pain that he was suffering, everything hurting so fiercely that he found himself in misery every second that he was conscious. He wished that he could cut off his broken arm it hurt so much and the migraine that never seemed to subside was driving him insane. The doctor listened to him sympathetically, then when he finished speaking, she looked at him with pity.

"I'm sorry Mr Brady, due to the nature of your situation, we are unable to administer better analgesia until all traces of the drug you were given are out from your system."

"But I'm in agony here!" His voice was raised but weak and he hated himself for sounding so whiny.

She sighed and came closer, placing her clipboard on the bedside cabinet then sat down on the chair next to his bed.

"Mr Brady the drug you were given, AG11, is not only a powerful drug but it is also notoriously difficult to treat anyone who still has it in their bloodstream. The very nature of AG11 means that it has many variable side effects and also some violent reactions to other drugs. For example, we are unable to give you morphine until the AG11 is completely out of your system as the interaction between the two drugs is powerful and sometimes extremely devastating. So until such times as the drug is out of your system, we can only give you a less effective painkiller that has little or no interaction with AG11. I'm sorry." And she truly did look sincerely sorry, but it did nothing to help him with the pain that tore at his senses.

"Come on, surely yeh can give me something, not even a tiny drop of morphine?" He asked, genuinely wondering if it could be that bad but she shook her head resolutely.

"Put it this way Mr Brady. Had we not known about the AG11 and had administered morphine last night, it might have counteracted the drug and woken you earlier, but it could quite as easily left you brain dead from a global catastrophic intracranial hemorrhage, such are its unpredictable interactions. It is a substance that we do not take any chances with."

"Did...did the paramedics know?" He asked quietly, his eyes dropping to look at his hand, the fingers of which pulled at the blanket covering him. "I mean, was there a chance they gave me morphine last night?"

She looked at him astutely, guessing straight away that there was something he was not telling her. She got up and pulled the curtains around his bed in order to give them a little privacy, even if it was mostly only perceived, and as she sat back down she leaned closer to him.

"Is there something wrong Mr Brady?"

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_Simon had been so precise in his planning that it was with great satisfaction that he found himself alive although injured. In a way he was glad that Steven had shot him, for it ended up doing him a favor when the pain had forced him to take the morphine that he had carried with him. Had it not been for the morphine injection, he knew he would surely be dead, struck down by a massive stroke just like Jason had been. The fact that he knew about the interactions of morphine and Blue Fire was a testament to his diligent research prior to the whole kidnapping idea. He knew that it might just as well have killed him outright, but it had given him a chance which the double dose of Blue Fire had not, so when he woke up after Steven had left to find help, he knew exactly why he had survived and smiled in the darkness despite his pain as he got to his feet and melted into the trees, leaving Brendan questioning his presence in the darkness of the woods. _

_He stopped the car for the third time, parking in the farthest away and most secluded space in a busy shopping centre car park. Reaching into the back he grabbed the plastic carrier bag from the seat and pulled it onto his knees. Filled with bandages and dressings, tape and gauze swabs, it was the emergency first aid package that he had filled the night prior to Steven's kidnapping. He had filled it with a mind to treat any injuries that he or Jason might suffer, little knowing that Jason would need treatment after a car crash, or that he would be using it to dress a bullet wound in his side. As he peeled off the old dressing and discarded it onto the passenger seat floor, he felt no pain in the wound, not even when he ran his fingers over the ragged skin. His entire nervous system was already in major overload with a torture that eclipsed every other sensation or pain he might ever experience again. _

_Despite the fact that the morphine had saved his life, it had caused a reaction that had left its mark on his body and he was sure, without a doubt, that he was dying and it had nothing to do with the wound he was currently dressing. When Brendan had injected the Blue Fire into his body it had, like with the others, coursed through his body agonizingly, making him feel like he was being consumed by a fire so intense it left no room for any other sensation. But unlike the others, the fire had never abated; the continuing burning sensation was now his permanent agony to endure until his end._

_It was the one thing that he had failed to learn during his research, about one of the rare side effects of Blue Fire in which the pain receptors that fired within the body on the initial injection of the drug failed to turn off, leaving the user in unending pain as it shut down their internal systems and they expired in agony. But Simon was very aware of this side effect now as it burned within him taking him to a whole new level of insanity while he finished dressing his wound and threw the bag of dressing back into the rear of the car._

_He was now determined to finish the game no matter the cost as he was dying anyway, he would not be around to pay the bill. He clearly knew that his time was running out and the eternal fire burning every nerve in his body drove him forward with a fresh plan in mind, a very final plan. No longer would he toy with Brendan or play with Steven, no longer would he lark around with silly concoctions just for the sheer pleasure of watching them suffer, the time for fun was over. This was end game and all he needed now was the cold metal that lay on the seat beside him and the bullets in the glove compartment._

_Their next meeting would be their last and he was adamant that both Brendan and Steven would lay dead at his feet before he left this world to meet his maker. _

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Brendan lay staring into space, heavy thoughts weighing down his mind and it took him a moment to notice that Steven stood next to his bed. As he turned towards him, Steven dipped down and kissed him, his lips soft and welcomed on his own.

"Hey you." He said as he pulled away, lowering himself carefully into the seat beside Brendan's bed.

"Hey." Brendan replied, trying to shake the melancholy that had settled upon him like a heavy blanket. His voice sounded rough to his ears and he cleared his sore throat.

"How you feeling now? You looked awful this morning. You still do, but like, not as bad."

Steven's awkward attempt to make him feel better made Brendan smile, everything always seemed just the little bit brighter when Steven was around and for a moment the blanket of sadness was lifted from him.

"I'm fine Steven, just a bit weak is all. More importantly, how are you?"

Steven shrugged his shoulders while straightening himself in the chair. "I'm alright, managed to get dressed and walk here myself. Cheryl dropped me off some joggies cause I didn't want to wander the corridors with my bum hanging out the back of my gown." He stared cheekily at Brendan, his smile wide and coy, his eyes filled with merriment. "But mibbe that'd be something you'd like to see, yeah?"

Brendan chuckled. "You know me Steven, never one to shy away from yer bum."

Steven gulped down a laugh and hid it behind a cough as he surreptitiously looked around him, which made Brendan chuckle even more heartily before grimacing at the pain that it fired up.

"You alright?" Steven moved forward and leaned on the bed. "Need me to get a nurse or something?"

Brendan shook his head as Steven took his hand and held it in his. At one time Brendan might have thrown his hand away in embarrassment and disgust, might even have gotten angry with him, but not now or ever again. Steven's hand in his was perfectly right, felt as if it belonged there, and even though he wasn't into hand holding, Brendan needed to hold Steven's hand right now, taking from those slender fingers the intended impartation of strength, the pain seeming to lessen a little the longer he held on.

"You alright now?" Steven asked as he rubbed the back of Brendan's hand with his thumb.

Brendan nodded his head as he squeezed Steven's hand and let go in order to move into a more comfortable position. It wasn't easy given his feeble state, but he managed to shift himself a little, enough to ease the pressure on the parts in contact with the uncomfortable mattress.

"So I was thinking, right? That when you're back on your feet, we try getting away again. Like, really get away, somewhere abroad or something?"

"I don't think so Steven."

"Just think about it yeah? We could go to Spain for a week, rest up in the sun, eh?"

He tried to nod his head, wanted to say hell yeah, let's do it, but it suddenly hit him how drastically his life may have changed and how it would ultimately effect his relationship with Steven. Everything had changed and a tiny familiar voice at the back of his mind asked the question; would Steven still want him when he knew the extent of Walker's harm?

The voice stemmed from a remnant of fear that was left over from his childhood; a tiny part of his broken soul that told him he was soiled goods and wanted by no one. It was the part of him that always had and forever would question, every part of every relationship he would ever been part of be it family, friend or lover. It questioned his very worth to any one and that tiny voice, so small and so very fragile managed to shout the loudest in his mind in his darkest hours. In the face of any kind of adversity, that little voice made itself heard and he would hide himself and his feelings behind a mask of indifference, a mask that he had created so many years ago in order to protect himself. The mask was that of the old Brendan Brady, the person he used to be before he discovered who he was or allowed himself to care for anyone. It was the face he had worn every day since his teenage years, devoid of emotion but with a look of evil loathing for the world and everything in it. As Steven continued to speak of what they would do once they left hospital, Brendan slipped the mask back on, wishing to hide and never be hurt as he so truly suspected he would be when Steven learned the truth.

"I said no Steven, okay?" He said brusquely and clenched his jaw, making the muscle in his face twitch as he watched the excitement in Steven's face fade away into worry.

"Bren? What's wrong?" Steven looked at him with a face filled with concern and he knew that Steven's eyes saw beneath his mask and that it did not fool him for even a second. Steven reached for his hand again but Brendan pulled it away, pretending to smooth back his hair but in reality not wanting Steven to touch him. If he let Steven touch him the game was over, he would tell him everything then he would be forced to lay there and watch as the only man he ever loved walked away from him.

"Bren?" Steven pushed when he didn't answer. "Dunt make me force it from you."

He never moved, never answered and he could see Steven getting more upset by the second.

"After everything we've been through, you still want to hide stuff from me? I thought we was past this! Don't you dare do this Brendan Bradeh, don't you dare pull away from me! If you dunt trust me by now, right? You never will."

He could hardly look at Steven, instead his head cocked to the side in his old uneasy body pose as his shoulders rose until he looked like he was trying to hide inside himself. But Steven ducked his head down and forced Brendan to look at him, reaching out and turning his head towards him as he tried to look away. He stared into those earnest eyes, searching for a reason to hide from Steven, looking for an excuse to push him away and tell him to bugger off and leave him alone, but all he saw was love and understanding and no reason to suspect that Steven would hurt him, feeling only shame for thinking that there would be. But being so open with someone was a thing that Brendan had never done in the past, it was new to him to trust another person and he was still getting used to it. He had always held everything locked inside himself so that no one could use his feelings against him, yet Steven demanded openness merely by his apparent willingness to stand by him.

"You think I'm gonna run away?" Steven asked incredulously, understanding what it was that held Brendan back. "Bren I love you, I'm not going anywhere, just tell me what's wrong."

Brendan swallowed hard and opened his mouth to speak, hesitating for a second as he hoped against hope that Steven would stick around long after his upcoming revelation.

"I..I've had a stroke Steven." He saw the panic rising in Steven's eyes, saw the fear that burst on his face and slackened his jaw in shock. "Hey, hey...its okay..." He said, raising his hand to Steven's face to wipe the fresh tears that spilled down his bruised cheeks even as they spilled from his own while his heart raced in his chest.

"How's it okay Bren? He...he...what he's done...how do they know? I mean, are they sure?" Steven leaned heavily on the bed with his head lowered and Brendan was not sure whether it was because he was upset or waiting to flee. Then the shudder that ran through Steven quickly had Brendan reaching for his hand to grip it tightly in an attempt to impart some kind of reassurance while searching for some himself. When Steven raised his head again, his swollen black eyes were moist and he sniffed and wiped at his nose with his bandaged wrist. "They might've got it wrong yeah? Like, mibbe they made a mistake?"

"I'm blind in me right eye and have a weakness down me right side. Don't even know how bad it is yet."

Steven looked at him, his facial muscles twitching and nose flaring as he took the news in. His head shook slowly as one glittering tear fell onto Brendan's hand and he suddenly wished that he had not told him anything. He hated the fact that he felt so defenseless when Steven was concerned, after all of the years building up barricades to protect himself from hurt at the hands of others, he had allowed him to get behind his well built defenses and tear them down so completely that he was left open and vulnerable. He had allowed himself to fall for this man with his wide expressive eyes and happy heart, allowed him to delve so deeply into his soul that Brendan knew he would be left hollow and desolate when Steven eventually pulled himself free and walked away; they all walked away from him in the end.

He cursed himself for being so stupid and waited for the reaction he was sure would come as the tiny voice laughed in his mind at his naivety. He expected the excuses, waited on the words that he was so used to; the apologies, the sorrow and excuses, then the quick exit and running away, he had seen it all. Despite his deep love and admiration for Steven, he almost expected him to be the same as the rest, just managing to hold on with a tiny frail thread of hope that perhaps Steven was different, that perhaps his love wasn't just a fleeting thing that was wasted by reality.

"Right." Steven said as he sat himself up and placed both hands on Brendan's arm. "We can deal with this, right?" He raised a hand and wiped his face again. "It's just something else thrown at us and we can deal with it."

Brendan was not sure how to respond and felt his mind spinning as he tried to understand. Steven had his entire life before him, he would be able to have any man who fell at his feet and Brendan was sure there would be many, so why would he want to stick around and care for Brendan? Yet he watched as Steven squared his shoulders and straightened his back as he had seen him do before when hit by bad news and saw him bounce back. The tiny voice's laughter stopped and he continued to look at Steven, who stared back, unwilling to leave and unwavering in his intent to stand by Brendan's side no matter what. He did not know what or how to feel, confusion filling his mind as his learned belief that he was unlovable and worth less than the dirt on someones shoes was shattered into a million pieces. Because when he looked into Steven's eyes, all he saw was love and acceptance and he felt real love and emotion for the first time in his entire life, feeling accepted for who and what he was. Steven knew the baggage that Brendan carried with him, yet he was willing to support him and love him despite it.

"I thought yeh...I..."

"What? You thought I'd leave you? Fuck sake Bren, I'm going nowhere, right? I love you, no matter what. You're my problem and always will be." He said with a wink and a grin that tore down every last barricade and protective barrier in Brendan's mind, allowing Steven full access to every part of him.

The rush of emotion was almost too much and he wanted nothing more than to be held by Steven, held by the man who by simply remaining seated beside him, had concreted his belief in their love and Brendan's belief in himself. As if he knew what Brendan was feeling, Steven got to his feet and leaned over the bed rail, drawing him into a tight embrace while pressing his lips to his forehead in a long and meaningful kiss. Brendan closed his eyes and leaned into those lips, feeling the need and love behind them, thankful that he had at last, found someone who truly thought he was worth fighting for and would remain by his side regardless of anything that the world threw at them. Steven sat back down, unable to let go of Brendan's hand.

"It mightn't be permanent anyways, right? Might just be shock, yeah?" Brendan smiled at the fact Steven had already latched on to what the doctor had said to him even though Brendan had not yet mentioned the possibility. "Even if it is permanent, we'll get through it you and me." Steven's smile was infectious. "Together."

Brendan's eyelids were heavy and he felt himself drifting towards sleep again, but this time with less weight on his mind and happier than he ever had been. Steven continued to speak, lowering his voice until its tones lulled him to sleep and Brendan heard that tiny voice in the dark recess of his mind fade away until he could not hear it anymore.

"I love you yeh know, always will." Steven whispered.

"Yer a soppy git Steven Hay." Brendan whispered as he fell deeper towards sleep. "Love yeh too."

o0o0o0o0o0oo

"_I'm sorry to bother you, but I was planning on visiting my cousin today and I am not entirely sure where in the hospital he is. Yes, it's Brendan Brady. He was brought to you through the night...Could you possibly put me through to intensive care please? That's brilliant, thank you very much for your help."_

_By the time he reached the hospital, Simon was sweating all over while puffing for breath. He had developed a tremble that shook his entire body and he was glad that he had reached his destination as he was sure that he would be unable to drive again. Pulling on his long jacket, he made sure it covered most of the bloodstains on his clothes before grabbing the gun and bullets and packing them into his large pockets. He didn't bother to lock the car, he wouldn't be needing it after this anyway, he just closed the door over and walked towards the entrance of the hospital in as steady and casual a way that he could. The excruciating pain he endured made his movements ataxic and he found himself walking with a pronounced jerking of his arms, so he pushed them deep into his pockets in an attempt to stop the noticeable movement. He had wondered how he would be able to fire the gun with this new quirk of his body, but he found that if he held his hands together tightly, the jerking ceased, giving him cause to believe that he would have no problem blasting Brendan and Steven away._

_There was a police car parked next to an ambulance just beside the main door and he lowered his head as he raised his shoulders so that his jacket reached up over his chin when he passed it so that he was not seen or recognized. The entryway was busy, some people wandered around in varying states of shock, others held a long craved for cigarette to their lips while they stood in their pajamas and housecoat having talked the nurses into letting them go outside for ten minutes. _

_Simon didn't give them a second glance and walked passed them into the main foyer and reception, heading directly to the ward in which the A & E receptionist had told him Brendan was currently being treated. When he pressed the intercom button a small voice sounded from the panel._

"_Can I help you?"_

"_Yes, I called earlier about visiting with my cousin, Brendan Brady?"_

"_Oh yes, pull the door."_

_Simon pulled the door when it buzzed and walked inside the warm ward, a grin on his face as his hand clenched over the gun in his pocket. This was it, this was the end of the game._

_TBC..._

_(I used my local hospital as a template for this, so it may differ from yours or any preconceived ideas, but the intercom into the wards and smoking at the doors can be seen quite often here.)_

_Feed me..._


	13. Chapter 13: A Dance With The Damned

**_Oh I really got you all wound up with that last chapter, huh? I could literally hear the pulling of head hair as I read the reviews! Thank you verily much for them! And because you all took it so graciously, I have sat all day writing this chapter even though I have suffered a migraine throughout. But that's a good thing, as it took me offline to concentrate ;) Hope you like! :D_**

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Steven sat for a while as Brendan slept, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest as he listened to his soft comforting snoring. Shuffling uncomfortably in the seat, Steven's body and joints were still aching from the abuse they had taken the night before; sitting still for any length of time caused his muscles to ceased up. But he was content to sit there regardless, just being near the sleeping man and he stroked Brendan's hand as he lost himself in a daydream, thinking about Brendan and everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours.

They were both lucky to be alive, Brendan even more so given everything that he had suffered, and it gave Steven a new perspective on both their lives. It was past time for them to trust one and other and stop all of the petty arguments that seemed to have cropped up between them recently. He understood that their arguing was mostly due to the presence of Seamus Brady in the village, but Brendan had become almost unbearable to be near, especially when he happened to have had an interaction with his father. But then, the way in which Brendan had behaved earlier, only highlighted why he reacted the way he did to his father and showed the torment that Brendan suffered all his life because of him.

Initially astounded that Brendan had been reluctant to tell him about the stroke for fear that he would leave him, it had served as a reminder of just how badly Brendan had been treated in his past and it filled Steven with a lasting sorrow. But a part of him understood this, the small part of him that had been left over from his own childhood when he had felt like he was the only child in the entire world whose parents did not love him, that no one had or would ever love him. His loveless childhood had left him with mixed up emotions and the inability to recognize real love which was why he often ended up broken hearted; he rushed towards love as he had never experienced much of it when he was younger, he needed to feel loved as he had never felt it as a child. Although their relationship never had the best or most conventional of starts, Brendan's love was different; he knew that Brendan's love for him was real and not the imagined happiness that Steven had fallen for in the past. It wasn't easy, he had said it countless times before; loving Brendan Brady was never going to be easy, but he did love him. Brendan made him feel special, loved, valued and accepted and even though he had little idea that Brendan had a similar background and insecurities as he did, he knew that they were two broken souls who were only complete when they were together, which was why they worked so perfectly.

He sniffed and blinked rapidly to moisten his dry eyes and looked at Brendan's face, ignoring the bruises and cuts to look at the face underneath. While he was sleeping, Brendan's mind and body betrayed him by allowing Steven a glimpse of the scared young boy that still resided deep within him. Steven could see traces of the younger Brendan in his face and even heard him whenever he whimpered or moaned in his sleep. It was something that Steven had witnessed countless times since they got back together and it had become especially prevalent since his father had showed up, but now Steven had a new understanding of what it was that he was seeing. Before, he simply thought it was the mans insecurities and the fact that Seamus reminded him of them, but Walker had made sure that he knew exactly why Brendan's dreams tortured him more now than ever.

_"Please...Da...don't..." _

Those three words, spoken in an almost childlike voice, had told him everything he had needed to know or really wanted to know. He hated the fact that Walker had forced Brendan to tell him, hated the fact that the divulgence had been a forced confession in a filthy abandoned work unit at the hands of a torturer. Steven would have wanted to find out from Brendan himself, in his own time and in his own way as it would have meant that he trusted Steven with the terrible secret and would have deepened their bond so much more, not because he had been forced to. He would never broach the subject nor even speak about it until Brendan did, he would allow Brendan to tell him, but he knew, deep down he knew what those words meant and it broke his heart.

He was unsure if Brendan would even remember anything of what he had said while under the effects of the drug, hell, he himself remembered very little of last night after being injected, the lights of Jack Osborne's car being the first thing that he could actively recall. So the possibility was that Brendan did not know that he had revealed his darkest secret, and Steven thought it best to leave it at that.

As he raised his hand and smoothed Brendan's hair back, he knew without a doubt that he would never leave him; Brendan was his world, how could he possibly leave that behind just because part of it was broken? Brendan continued to sleep, completely oblivious to everything around him, completely at ease for the first time in many years. Steven knew this as Brendan had a tendency to waken through the night at least once or twice after mumbling or moaning through a nightmare before going to get a glass of water. Steven had watched him sleep many times, but never had he seen him so relaxed and it made him feel somewhat proud to think that he might have helped give him that peace and enable him to sleep without fear.

He placed his hand over his mouth and yawned; even though he felt that he was well on his road to recovery, there were moments when his body would remind him that he was still healing and not quite fully ready to be back on his feet. He yawned again, long and loud as he sat back in the chair and folded his arms. His head was already lowered to his chest while his eyes drooped heavily and since Brendan continued to sleep, Steven decided that perhaps a ten minute nap wouldn't be such a bad idea. Almost instantly he was dreaming.

_No matter how fast he ran it was never fast enough, the wind blew against him keeping him from advancing and all he seemed to do was run on the spot. He grabbed for the branches of the nearest tree in order to pull himself forward but the branches broke off in his fingers and crumbled into dust which the wind blew back into his face. A huge gust of wind finally managed to lift him into the air and he flew, tumbling and screaming through the air and trees all the way back along the path he had managed to run to land between the still figures of Brendan and Simon. They both lay with their heads turned towards him, their dead eyes seeming to stare right through him and even though he wanted to get to his feet and run again, he found that his body was rigid and unmoving and he lay there between the corpses and whimpered. Then all of a sudden, Simon was strangely twitching and moving quickly, like something from a horror movie and he slid his body on top of Steven's, his dead cold eyes staring straight into his._

"_What was it that he saw in you...?" the corpse whispered as it cocked its head and leaned closer. Then Steven was shouting on Brendan, looking at his dead body and seeing a tear fall from its glassy eyes and he screamed and screamed and..._

"Steven?" His shoulders were being shaken and he squirmed at the touch. "Steven?" The voice was more insistent, quiet but commanding and he opened his eyes to see Cheryl kneeling beside his chair with a look of concern on her face. "You alright love? You were doing a lot of twitching there!"

He sighed as he looked at her, his heart slowing down as he calmed. "Yeah I'm fine, just a bad dream is all." He wiped his face with his hands, noting that they trembled slightly.

Cheryl nodded then stood up and walked to the other side of the bed, looking unconvinced when she stared back at him.

"What?" He asked annoyed, and slightly embarrassed.

"Nothing, nothing. If you say yer fine, yer fine." She shook her head and rolled her eyes as she sat down and began unpacking the toiletries she had brought in for Brendan. "He looks a bit better, more colour to him, yeah? Has he woken?" She asked as she placed the toiletries into the bedside cabinet and folded the carrier into her handbag.

"Yeah, he were awake earlier, but he's still, you know, weak."

"It's taken it right out him that's fer sure. But he'll be back on his feet in no time."

Steven winced at the words, unable to say anything as it wasn't his place to. He nodded his head but stopped as it made him feel nauseous and his face blanched as he fought to hold onto his stomach contents.

"You know Ste, you look terrible love. Why don'cher go back and have a proper sleep? I'll come get yer if he wakens?" Cheryl nodded towards Brendan and smiled genuinely.

He was about to argue, not really wanting to leave Brendan's side for even a minute, but his body was telling him that if he didn't go lie down, it would force him to and as if to reinforce the fact, his head pounded making the room spin slowly.

"Yeah alright, but mind, come get me as soon as, yeah?"

When he got to his feet the room turned and he had to hold onto the chair for a second until it calmed down, aware that Cheryl was watching him and knowing that she was about to stand up to help him, he put one foot forward and said goodbye then walked as steadily as he could towards the ward exit. He passed though the first set of doors and walked slowly on towards the main exit and entrance of the ward. The nightmare had really shaken him, so much so that when he saw an image of Simon Walker opening the ward door in front of him, a sweat broke out on his brow and it took long moments for him to realise that it _was_ in fact Walker and not just a trick of his tired mind.  
Walker halted in the doorway and although he wore the sunglasses that Jason had worn on the day that he stalked Steven, he was sure that Walker was glaring at him from behind the darkened lenses and it nearly stalled his heart.

"Steven." He said in greeting with barely concealed hatred. "Bet you didn't think you'd see me again."

His voice was as cold as ice, his lips peeled back in a nasty sneer that revealed his sharp teeth, making him look as if he was some kind of human predator out on the hunt. Steven's mouth opened wide and before he could utter a sound, Walker was on him. Grabbing his arm, Walker turned and pulled him and Steven gasped as his back slammed into Walker's chest and was held tight. He could feel Walker's hot breath on his neck and heard his angry voice in his ear.

"I wouldn't even try to scream Steven, Trust me, I won't miss."

Steven's breath caught in his throat as he felt the gun being pushed into his ribs and he stood there quivering, terrified and angry at the same time.

"Thought you was dead." He said as Walker dragged him into the small waiting room, closing the door as he pushed Steven into the seats where he landed with a thump.

"I am, I just have a job to finish."

There was a grating sound to Walker's voice, an edge that had not been there before. Steven forced himself to look at him and his eyes widened in horror when he looked upon the face that had been pressed so close to his last night.  
Walker removed the sunglasses and held them in one hand, while pointing the gun at him with the other and he panted as he stared at Steven murderously. The tiny fragile blood vessels within his eyes had burst causing the scleras to turn a blood red that gave him a truly demonic look. His eyelids were swollen as was his face which was flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat. His breathing was laboured and every now and again his arms would jerk and twitch for no apparent reason. His black jeans looked even darker in places where blood had seeped down his leg from the wound in his side and it was obvious he was in a great amount of pain, but Steven felt no pity for him, in fact it gave him grim satisfaction to see Walker in such agony.

"What's wrong Simon?" He asked with a smirk, "Got a thorn in your side or something?"

Walker lunged at him, grabbing his arm in a grip so tight it drew the breath from Steven's lungs.

"No time to fuck around Steven. Let's go see Brendan eh? I want to give him my best regards and this is how it's going to happen. I'm going to hold this gun to your back, right? And you are going to quietly walk me directly to Brendan's bed without a sound and if you try anything, I will blow a hole in your spine and leave you live with it, okay?"

"Well you wont find him in 'ere." Steven said as calmly as he could, nodding his head in the general direction of the ward.

"I called ahead, he's here." Walker smiled.

"No, they just moved him to another ward."

"Do you think I'm fucking stupid?" Walker growled and further tightened his grip. "Don't lie to me."

"Why d'yeh think I were leaving, eh?" Steven said as convincingly as he could, "They moved him less than ten minutes ago, I've just been told and were going to see him"

Walker looked down on him, his gruesome stare making Steven's stomach churn and it conjured up memories of the corpse from his nightmare. One of Walker's eyes twitched as he looked at Steven suspiciously, trying to decide if what he was saying was true. It was very evident that Walker was extremely ill and Steven hoped that his mind was also affected by what ailed him as he tried to convince Walker of his words. He forced himself to relax and look calm, hiding his fear to the best of his abilities to protect his lie. He could not allow Walker into the ward to get near Brendan and Cheryl, even if it meant that he would get hurt for his actions, which he was sure he would.

"Which ward?" Walker asked and Steven felt relief wash over him but still held himself rigid.

"I'll show you."

"Yes, I know you will." He adjusted his jacket to cover the ever growing blood stain on his jeans and placed the glasses back on his face as he opened the door. "Move."

Without so much as a backwards glance, Steven exited the ward with Walker closely behind him. He walked them down the corridor and passed the canteen then onwards, wanting to get Walker as far away from Brendan and Cheryl as he was able to, with no idea of what the hell he was going to do. His mind raced in panic, he had told Cheryl that he would sort Walker should he ever meet him again and now that he had the chance he was at a loss of how he was going to do it.

It quickly became apparent that Walker was very ill indeed, whatever was going wrong with his body seemed to be getting worse and he appeared to be weakening every second. He pulled Steven close, placing his arm over his shoulder and used him as support while making sure that Steven knew the gun was still pointed at him. His legs were now jerking almost as much as his arms and every now and again he hacked out a cough that ended with a breathless wheeze. He weighed down heavily on Steven and he found it increasingly harder to keep them both upright, knowing that his own debilitated body would give out soon. And then, just as he was about to give up, the perfect solution to his situation literally appeared before them. Two policemen exited a ward up ahead and Steven felt Walkers arm tighten on his shoulders.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut and keep walking." He growled as they continued to walk.

But Steven found that Walker's threats meant nothing to him anymore as with the appearance of the policemen came the revelation that his life meant less to him as others did. He felt ready to forfeit his life in order to save the lives of those he loved; Brendan, Cheryl, Leah and Lucas. For as long as Walker was allowed to stay free, they were all in danger of falling into Walkers evil hands eventually. Suddenly he understood everything that Brendan was willing to do to protect him, he fully understood the need to protect even if it meant the end if his own life. Leah and Lucas had others to look after them, even Cheryl had someone to look out for her, but Steven knew that he was the only one willing and able to protect Brendan, and right now, he had the opportunity to protect them all.

He straightened his back and squared his shoulders beneath the weight of Walker's arm, took a deep breath and smiled. But just as he started to shout, a nurse came out of the ward the police had just left to called them back and suddenly Steven was being dragged across the corridor with a hand clamped over his mouth towards a set of doors that lead to a stairwell.

Walker roughly pushed him through the doors and grabbed him by the throat, pushing him against the railings of the balcony which looked down on a drop leading to the laundries below the hospital.

"You little shit! Do you think I wont kill you Steven? Is that it?"

He pressed Steven further into the railings making him cry out as his back bent awkwardly over the landings handrail as Walker rested the gun against his temple. Steven was terrified as Walker's arms jerked and twitched, threatening to either throw him over the railings or pull the trigger on the gun.

Then Walker laughed and pulled Steven back up and threw him against the wall behind the doors. He placed his hand on Steven's jaw and pushed his head upwards while digging his fingers into his flesh.

"Where is Brendan you little fuck! If he's still in intensive I'll end you!"

Steven held onto the hand Walker had tightened on his face as he wriggled to get out of the grasp.

"He's not! I promise!"

"Then why are you leading me away from it then? These are the geriatric wards Steven, or do you think I can't read the signs?" Walker said as he pointed to the sign above the doors then abruptly let go of Steven's face and backed off, running his fingers through his hair then tore the sunglasses from his face and tossed them away as he began to pace back and forth along the narrow landing.

"My head is ruined! I can't think I can't think I can't think!" He growled and rushed at Steven, pushing his face into his menacingly. "I hear him you know, shouting at me, telling me that it's all going to be fine and I know that it's not, I know it never will be. It's all in here." He said, tapping his head with a finger as he smiled maniacally. "All of it! I see...it all and it plays over and over and over...and it hurts like hell and it it burns..." He backed off and stood staring at Steven who was so wide eyed and confused that Walker laughed at him.

"Look at you. You have no idea, have you? No idea of that place, hmm? You've never had to look there, into that...that hell and try to pull yourself away from it only for it to reach for you and you can't escape no matter how hard you scream or struggle." He was panting heavily, his rambling was taking it out of him and Steven continued to listen to Walker's insanity if only to allow him to become weaker. "It stares back at you, it stares back at you and makes you believe you are free when in fact you are not and never will be. It makes you feel like you are alive when you are dead and it knows it and you know it and it burns and it hurts and it feels as if the devil himself is standing inside your skin. It reminds you of everything and means nothing yet it sears and punishes me when it should be you and Brendan who suffers!"

As Walker fell ever deeply into insanity Steven dared to move towards the door and before he could even blink, Walker had snatched his hair and yanked him back to the railing, pushing him over to stare at the long drop below.

"Simon please! Please don't do this!" He was pleading with a madman and even though he knew it would make no difference, the words continued to flow from his lips in a barrage of blind panic and tears.

"I would have liked for you to die in front of him, I wanted to see him break but I guess I can't have it all my way." He pushed the gun to the back of Steven's head while he wheezed and Steven could feel the terrible spasms that rocked his body then he coughed violently, allowing Steven to break free from his hold and risk the gun going off. He pushed against the handrail and forced Walker backwards then twisted around to reach for him. Walkers arms flew outwards and Steven lunged for the hand with the gun, desperate to disarm him. The two men fought to gain the upper hand, both weaker than weak but unwilling to give up and they appeared as if they were dancing a morbid waltz as they pulled and pushed against each other. The gun went off with a deafening bang which reverberated throughout the stairwell but neither of them stopped their struggling, continuing to fight until one of them went down.

Steven was now as out of breath as Walker but Walker was crying blood and the sight of it spurred Steven into a more vigorous fight that saw them both frantically pushing against each other until the world disappeared beneath their feet and they were falling. For a second it felt as if they were flying but as they turned in mid air, the ground rushed up to meet them and they landed with a bone cracking thud.

Steven could barely breathe as he looked down on Walker's astonished face, making an awful sound every time he breathed in, winded and shocked. Walker had broken his fall and Steven lay on his chest as his body ceased its incessant jerking and relaxed. Pushing himself up, Steven screamed as pain ripped through his spine and his left shoulder and he lowered his head and whimpered as the tears of blood dried on Walker's face. He managed to slip from Walker's body and crawl towards the stairs, wondering how the hell he was ever going to make it back to the top of them again. The doors above were thrown open and he looked up to see the uneasy and focused faces of the two policemen that had been called back by the nurse. He placed his hands on the first step and pulled himself onto it to sit, not really hearing the shouts from the policemen above, but something made him look back towards Walker, and when he did he froze.

Walker had turned his head to look at him and he stared at him with those devilish eyes as he pointed the gun straight at his head. A weak smile played over his lips as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Be seeing you Steven." He whispered as he pulled the trigger then fell still.

Steven felt the impact hit and throw him backwards until his body slammed into the stairs behind him. With a screeching cry that he was sure came from someone else, he acknowledged the pain in his torn shoulder as the policemen came warily down the stairs. He raised his head to look towards Walker, then collapsed back down when the pain was too much. In those few seconds he saw all that he needed to see; Walker was clearly dead. His eyes were half closed and glazed, his body completely still and the gun had fallen from his hand. An ominous dark puddle of blood had began to spread on the floor and Steven knew that it was over.

He lay still and allowed the police to help him, feeling that no matter what happened now, he had saved them all from Simon Walker's insane hunt. He had taken a bullet to prove it and with that thought a smile blossomed on his lips as a chuckled started to build into laughter that rocked him and hurt him and he didn't care.

Like Brendan, he had been willing to take a bullet for the man who meant the world to him, how better to prove his love than this? He had taken a bullet for the love of Brendan Brady, and he was determined to stick around and damn well make sure he knew it.

_TBC..._

_Feed me migraine soothing cookie comments! :D_


	14. Chapter 14: Through His Eyes

_**I admit, I fell into a few days of writers block. :( I tried, I really did, then someone told me not to force it, so I relaxed and it all flowed. So I apologize for how long it has taken to upload, and I thank you all for your comments and emails and tweets! I have not been able to answer them this time round due to working so hard to break through the writers block! But I read and loved every one. It is nearly time to finish up this tale, but not quite yet. ;) Hope you enjoy!**_

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Steven's gleeful chuckling had stopped when the severity of his injuries was made known in a torturous wave of pain that burned in his shoulder and spine. He was very aware of how fast he was breathing and as he lay there staring at the ceiling, he listened to the strange voices that echoed in the stairwell. His heart beat so loudly in his ears that he only caught snatches of what the two policemen were saying as they assessed the situation.

"_...Control, this is Sierra nine..."_

"_...this one's dead..."_

"_...get help..."_

He felt the disturbance of air as one of the officers passed him, ran up the stairs and disappeared back through the doors just as the face of the other appeared before him, concern showing on his friendly features as he positioned himself awkwardly on the stairs to help Steven.

"What's your name mate?" He asked as he pulled a pair of blue nitrile gloves from his vest pocket and proceeded to put them on.

"St...Steven..."

"Steven, I'm Michael, we're going to get you some help, yeah?"

Steven nodded weakly as Michael placed his hand on his right shoulder and pressed down firmly on the bullet wound in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. Steven gritted his teeth as a fresh wave of agony radiated from under the pressure of Michael's hand and he moaned until his breath ran out and ended with a strange mirthless chuckle which made Michael look at him curiously.

"Not sure I could laugh with a hole torn in my shoulder mate, you need to lay easy 'til we get you seen to." He said as he repositioned his hand in a further attempt to stop the flow.

His back muscles went into spasm and Steven cried out, wishing that he could get off the damned stairs that were digging into his spine which felt as if it was broken in pieces. Michael continued to press against the wound in his shoulder, the blood seeping through his fingers as he tried to stanch the flow, but failing as he had nothing to cover the wound with except his gloved hands.

"I were...too lucky, me...I think." Steven's words were slurred and the policeman shook his head in confusion but smiled indulgently as he held his hand fast to the wound in Steven's shoulder.

"If you were lucky, you would have dodged the bullet." Michael smiled down on him.

"Mibbe, yeah. Still lucky though like...I landed on Walker and...didn't break my neck." Steven said as he tried to straighten his back, wincing as it spasmed again..

"Are you saying you fell? From up there?" Michael asked, pointing his head towards the landing above.

"Yeah, but Walker...broke my fall." He smiled woozily and Michael looked from him towards Walker's cooling body with a frown on his face.

"Simon Walker?" He asked to which Steven nodded.

"Jesus Christ." Michael cursed, shaking his head slowly. "We've been after him for months."

"Yeah I know." Steven nodded again, his eyelids drooping down as a heavy fatigue washed over him.

Michael was speaking to him but Steven couldn't make out the words as a sleepy haze had settled on his mind and he had to concentrate to even keep his eyes opened. His body shivered and his teeth chattered together as a coldness began to spread through his trembling frame. Shock was setting in; his breathing increased further until he was panting and he could feel his heart fluttering quickly in his chest. He felt his eyes roll in his head and Michael must have seen it as the big policeman turned Steven's face towards him and spoke with a nervous edge to his voice.

"Come on Steven, stay with me lad."

Steven smiled at him, a smile of thanks and genuine appreciation, but he no longer had the strength nor the mind to keep going. He knew that his body had gone way passed its limits some hours ago and as he lay there looking up into Michael's face, he suddenly had the urge to spill words that needed to be heard in case he didn't come back from this.

"Tell them...tell my kids...I love them...tell Brendan...it were for him...tell Bren...Bren..."

"Steven come on, stay with me mate, you are nearly there eh? Nearly there mate, come on!"

Above them the doors burst open and Michael's colleague hurried down the stairs followed by a small medical team, but things had already began to fade. Steven could no longer keep his eyes open as his surroundings turned black and everything grew dim. Soon all that Steven could focus on was Michael's continuing litany of encouragement, but even the sound of his voice faded, becoming indecipherable ghostly whispers in Steven's mind. As he gently fell into unconsciousness, it was with a single thought; It had been worth it.

o0o0o0o0o0o

It had been well over ten hours since he had fallen asleep to the sound of Steven's voice and Brendan woke more refreshed and relaxed as he had ever had done in years. He lay there contentedly with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of peace as it had eluded him for so long he felt he would never experience it again. The covers felt restrictive and heavy and he stirred feebly beneath them while noting how sore and stiff his body felt. Yawning, he opened his eyes and looked around, half expecting to see Steven sleeping in the chair next to his bed. He was disappointed to find that he wasn't and his brows knitted together in confusion when he saw Cheryl in that chair, with a tear streaked face and red, watery eyes. He watched her quietly for a moment as she dabbed at her eyes, constantly looking from her hands to across the ward towards some unknown thing that kept grabbing her attention. As she turned her head back to her hands, she noticed him looking at her and her eyes widened as fresh tears filled them. He had a terrible sinking feeling as he watched her try to compose herself and his new found peace was quickly shattered as concern entered his mind.

"Hey love." She said shakily, her eyes flickering to the other side of the ward and back.

"Hey. What's wrong?" he croaked.

She stared at her hands which fiddled with a crumpled paper handkerchief, tearing it and rolling it in her fingers as she continued to cry. Brendan didn't like this, something was wrong and he was sure that it had nothing to do with his own predicament. He tried to raise himself to look across the ward to see what interested her so much but pain in his broken ribs saw him lay back down with a groan.

Cheryl reached for his hand and held it very tight, so tight that Brendan knew that whatever was wrong, it was something very serious. Cheryl was renowned for her dramatics and overreactions, but he could always tell when something significantly bad or serious had happened as she changed from the light hearted drama queen he loved so much into a quiet, pensive girl with a sadness on her face that he hated to see.

"Bren, Something's happened." She played with his fingers as she sniffed and blinked back tears that never seemed to stop. But she couldn't speak any further as she choked on a sob and suddenly his heart was racing and he felt sick.

"Chez, what? What is it?" She looked up and he knew by the pity in her eyes that it had something to do with Steven. He should have known that something was wrong when Steven had not been the one sitting beside his bed. He pulled his hand out of hers and placed it on the bed rail, ignoring the fresh pain in his ribs and head, attempting to pull himself up to stare across the ward.

"No, Bren, wait!" She tried to gently pull him back down but he cursed and fought against her until his body decided he had spent too much energy and he collapsed back into the bed, none the wiser.

"What's happened Chez, tell me." He panted, feeling anger at his weakness and anxious at what it might be that she had to tell him.

"Steven...he was going back to his own ward fer a sleep. I don't know how but...Walker got hold of him..."

His mind clamped down at the name and he heard little else of what Cheryl said as an agonizing concern and anger erupted inside him and he shook his head vigorously in negation to the claim that Walker had survived.

"Walker? Walker's dead Chez, I killed him me'self."

"Yeh did love, I know yeh did, he just...took a while ter die...and coz of that..."

"Where is Steven?"

"You need to..."

"Where is Steven Chez, tell me." His eyes watched every single emotion displayed on her face, searching for hope while hating the fact that all he saw was grief.

"They brought him here an hour ago." She sniffed as Brendan turned his head away and moaned piteously. "They say that he and...Walker had a fight...they fell from the landing at the top of a stairwell down the corridor and...Steven was...he was just about to come back when...he...he..."

Brendan turned and grabbed her hand and held it as tightly as she had. "He what Chez, what? He isn't...god please no..."

"No no no love, he isn't dead...but he's very ill. Walker pulled a gun on him...he was shot..."

He felt an explosion of emotions too big to contain that forced a long grief filled cry from his throat. He shook his head in denial as anger and heartache thrust themselves to the front of his mind and although Cheryl did her best to placate him, he pushed her away as he felt his mind gravitating towards the hellish darkness that he had thought he had escaped from and a roar burst from his mouth.

"Steven!" He pushed weakly against the mattress, trying to sit up, his legs kicking out while the right side of his body reacted sluggishly to his ardent commands making him twist and turn in the bed.

Long moments passed in a blur and he pulled together as much strength as he possibly could find and fought firstly Cheryl and then the two nurses who came running at the sound of his cries. He tried to get out of the bed, pulling and disconnecting wires and tubes from his body, setting off machine alarms and spilling blood from his body all over the white sheets and clothes of those around him. He cold feel nothing but panic verging on hysteria and his arms pushed and punched out until something in his side moved and took his breath away as the chest drain was dislodged, then he was being held back down on the bed and injected with something that quickly made his body relax and his mind become sluggish.

He lay there in a state of anxious confusion, his thoughts held in a strange fog, his head still rocking back and forth as his eyes rolled in his head. He could feel things being forced into his arms but it was nothing really, just a faint sensation that passed quickly. The alarm of the machines screamed around him, much louder and more shrill than they had been and although they were silenced a few moments later, he still heard their sound echoing through his mind. His breathing laboured but he was so past caring as the fog increased until he felt virtually nothing and his breathing slowed.

Cheryl was crying and sobbing and he couldn't even think of why though it broke his heart to hear her so sad. But why was she crying? He wondered until his mind conjured up an image of a young happy face with beautiful large blue eyes, smooth skin and soft luscious lips and his body shook as his mouth formed the mans name and whispered it out into the air on a heavy breath full of regret and grief. He felt Cheryl take his hand as he cried softly while saying Steven's name again and she tried to comfort him with words that held little meaning for his muddled mind. Her soft hands stroked his hand gently and he drifted off to a place where this fresh pain and guilt were lifted from him and he fell into a peaceful sleep under the heavy control of a drug induced sleep.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

_"...he was very insistent that Mr Brady be told that it was for him. Not sure what he meant by that, but it seemed important to him for Mr Brady to know..."_

_"...and thank you for caring for him, 'am sure it helped ter keep him with us..."_

_"...I hope he pulls through."_

The conversation didn't mean a great deal to Brendan as he fought to break through the fog that clouded his drugged mind. The words were lost on him and if truth be told, he had little memory of what had transpired earlier other than vague feeling that something bad had happened. He struggled to pull himself free from the heavy restraint of the sedation he had been given earlier, feeling like his head was filled with cotton wool which clogged his mind and impeded his ability to think. It wasn't until Cheryl leaned over the bed and kissed his forehead that he realized his eyes were open and staring at the white ceiling above his bed. She looked so tired and sad that all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and hold her like he used to when they were younger; when he was her big brother the hero who would comfort her when she was sad or upset.

"Bren love, I'll be back in a few minutes. Just gonna pop out and grab a coffee and check on Ste."

Just the mention of Steven's name brought everything back to him and his stomach churned violently as he remembered with clarity the fact that Steven lay injured by the hands of Walker. It was like waking from a dream in which a deceased loved one had been alive, then waking to find it was a lie and his guts twisted within him as the misery descended upon him once more.

The curtains had been drawn around his bed, like a protective shield against what lay beyond; hiding the fact that Steven lay on deaths door across the ward. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he ground his teeth together, feeling the old familiar feelings of rage, frustration and hatred flow through him, giving him strength and bolstering his will to get out of the bed. Using his left hand, he pulled himself with great effort into a sitting position, grunting but trying to ignore his body's outcry at being moved in such a way. His face was pulled into a grimace which displayed both pain and determination weaved into an angry scowl.

He hauled himself to the bottom of the bed where the bed rails left a small gap for him to wriggle through and he sat there a moment, legs dangling over the edge, breathing deep controlled breaths until his mind cleared more and he felt ready to move again. He slowly pushed himself from the bed until his feet hit the cold floor and he stopped still, feeling the difference in sensation between both sides of his body. It never occurred to him that he might not make it, such was his resolve to reach Steven, and so he sighed and pushed off the bed to stand up shakily.

He wobbled slightly as he tried to compensate for the lack of strength in one side, standing there lopsided and wondering if he would ever stand straight again, but he was standing unaided, and that in itself was an accomplishment he didn't think he would ever achieve. Feeling tugging at various parts of his body, he remembered the lines and cables that were attached to the machines monitoring him that would alarm as soon as he disconnected them, but no matter what, he would not stop until he had seen Steven. Using the bed rail for support, he lumbered over to the machines and looked them over carefully, finding their power buttons and switching them off. Then he pulled out the tubing connected to the line in his arm and pressed hard on the hole in his skin.

As soon as he took an unaided step forward he stumbled, the lack of strength in the right side making his center of gravity off kilter. It took him a few moments to compensate and restart his walk as he peeled off the cables from the monitors and let them fall wherever. He limped awkwardly towards the curtains, every tiny step a momentous drain on his reserves that brought bursts of pain from all over his body. It was the tug in his side that halted his little escapade and he just stood there confused, leaning to the side as his casted arm dangled heavily beside him, unsure of what to do. His right leg began to tremble and threatened to give way beneath him and he cursed at his own stupidity as he could neither go forward nor retreat back to bed, merely stand there shaking waiting on his legs to give.

"Shit." He cursed aloud and tried to turn to reach for the bed rail.

"Bren?" Cheryl's voice filtered though the curtains much to Brendan's chagrin, he knew that she would give him a bollocking for attempting this stunt.

The curtains were pulled back to reveal Cheryl standing with a fresh coffee in hand and one eyebrow raised questioningly as she saw the tubes and cables laying all over the floor and Brendan, guiltily standing there looking as if he was about to collapse.

"I just want...ter see Steven..." He said, his eyes not quite able to meet hers.

"And yeh thought it would be a good idea ter try that yerself? Eh?"

It was then that his strength evaporated as his legs shook violently beneath him and just as he was about to collapse onto to the floor, Cheryl's arms encircled him and held him up as she backed him into the chair she had sat vigilantly in overnight. He sank into it with a moan of both relief and frustration as Cheryl hunkered beside him.

"What were yeh trying ter do love?! Yeh know yeh shouldn't be out of bed!"

He shook his head as he felt a terrible anger surge through him and he turned his head so that she didn't see it.

"I need...to see Steven, Chez." he said through gritted teeth.

She looked at him oddly, as if sensing this was more than just concern for Steven's wellbeing that weighed on his mind, which of course was true. She sighed as she got to her feet and patted his hand.

"Alright love, gimme a sec."

As she disappeared through the curtains, they opened a little, giving Brendan a narrow view of the ward beyond. He could see people bustling around, heard the noise of alarming machines and hurrying feet. He tried to see where Steven might be but the bay in which he thought he was had the curtains pulled over and he saw nothing, making him shake his head in quiet desperation as Cheryl returned with a nurse.

The nurse had started on a stern tirade regarding what he had tried to do but when he raised his head and looked at her, she saw the barely controlled emotions displayed on his face and she relented with a sigh. Looking at him sadly, she was obviously torn between keeping him medically safe and wanting to help him, but against her better judgement she nodded her head in acquiescence.

"Five minutes Mr Brady, then I want you back in bed. Agreed?" She said.

He nodded gratefully and thanked her, allowing them both to transfer him into the wheelchair as he had spent almost all of his strength on those few precious steps he had taken. When the nurse had finished sorting tubing and different things to allow his movement in the chair, Cheryl pushed him out passed the curtains.

As they moved across the ward, Brendan felt nervous fear at what he was going to see and how he might react, and when Cheryl leaned forward and pulled the curtains back, the air was sucked from his lungs at the sight that lay before him.

"Jesus..." Was all he said as Cheryl maneuvered his chair to rest beside Steven's bed.

He lay motionless with his eyes closed and lips slightly parted, the bottom one swollen and cut. His face was less swollen than it had been, but the black and blue bruises accentuated his more than pallid complexion. He looked drained, as if the bag of blood which hung from the drip stand was working in reverse and sucking the blood from him.

His wrists had been redressed and the bullet wound to his right shoulder was padded and bound. Brendan reached forward and took Steven's hand in his while continuing to stare at his abused face. He was very aware of Cheryl watching him as she sat down in the chair opposite, but he ignored her as he dropped his eyes to look at the fingers he toyed with. Steven's nails were caked in blood, which stabbed another cruel knife through Brendan's heart and he sighed sadly as he rubbed a finger over Steven's bruised knuckles. Outside, the clouds passed quickly across the sky to reveal the sun which shone through the window behind the bed, throwing a warm illumination over Steven who lay there so frail and ill that Brendan's anger and frustration disappeared, only to be replaced by shame and guilt.

"They say he was lucky it happened in the hospital as the bullet nicked an artery." Cheryl said as she raised her coffee to her mouth. "That policeman more than likely saved his life."

Brendan nodded and his eyes flickered to the heavily bandaged shoulder, the sight of which merely compounded his guilt. For all the ward was busy and relatively noisy, Brendan heard little of what went on around him, as if Steven's bay was in its own little bubble which held out the rest of the world. So real was the feeling of isolation that Brendan jumped a little when he heard Cheryl's voice next to him as she kissed his head.

"I 'ave a call to make, I'll be back in a minute." She said, pulling the curtain tighter closed as she left.

He knew that she had left in order to give him time alone with Steven, she always seemed to instinctively know what he needed and appreciated the fact that she cared enough for him to understand. He sat there and indulged himself in the feelings of self loathing and self depreciation that had descended on his mind, knowing that everything that had happened in the last forty eight hours had been because of him. Even though he knew that he had not killed Cameron Walker, it was because of his past dodgy dealings that so many wanted to harm him and continued to harm those that he loved. He often wondered what would happen if he suddenly disappeared off the face of the Earth; would they all be safer without him? Or would it simply mean they would be tortured more thoroughly in order to bring him back? He felt overpowering disgrace that he had been the one who brought the greatest harm to his loved ones. He shook his head and stared back at those fingers which he played with, hit by a flood of memories of them running through his hair, softly touching his lips and digging wildly into his back in a moment of joyous intimacy. He folded them into his hand and stared at Steven's face, remembering all the times that face had been the only thing in his entire world worth living for. He was suddenly lost in his memories as his eyes traced the details of Steven's features, knowing every quirk and blemish, and wishing those eyes would open to look upon him with that doting love that he had become so accustomed to.

He remembered the coy smiles, the darting intelligent eyes, the flashing of his perfect teeth. He remembered the tears that fell from those eyes and that no matter the argument, they always held a softness towards Brendan that made him weak and protective of this young man. In his minds eye he remembered one of their most intimate encounters, seeing that face contorted in a myriad of expressions as his body twisted in the carnal dance just as his blue blue eyes opened wide and glistened in a moment of complete ecstasy as Brendan moved above him, within him. The memory left Brendan wondering if he could ever leave that beautiful connection behind.

Even as he considered it, he knew that should he ever leave, it would kill him more definitively than any person who meant him harm ever could. His world would be a much darker place without Steven, his life forever incomplete and he doubted he could survive it. But even as he thought he couldn't leave, he realised that he should and the feeling of crushing loss fell upon him so heavily that he lowered his head and rested it on Steven's hand.

"I'm so sorry Steven. This is all my fault." He whispered as he felt his remaining strength wane. "I wish...I wish we could've met earlier, when I was younger, as my life would have turned out different if yeh'd been part of it and I would never have caused you any pain."

He squeezed Steven's hand to his lips and closed his eyes with a feeling of finality, his decision made.

"You'll never be hurt coz of me again."

He rested Steven's hand back onto the bed and went to pull away, knowing that it would be the last time he touched the man he loved so much. He had decided that once he was well enough, he would slip away, quietly, unnoticed and never blight Steven's life again. He was about to call on some help to go back to his own bed when a breathless whispery voice stopped his words from being spoken.

"Don't you dare leave Brendan Brady." He turned back to see Steven's half opened, tired eyes staring at him. "Get any ideas of disappearing out that head of yours, or I'll bloody well kill you myself, right?" The fact that Steven knew exactly what he was thinking put him to shame and he lowered his head, mortified.

"I didn't take this bullet for you to run away Bren. I took it so we could be safe, so we could be together."

"What do yeh mean, take this bullet?" Brendan stared at him, completely aghast at the thought that Steven might have deliberately put himself at risk.

"He was coming for you. What else was I meant to do? I were at door, he opened it, I led him away."

He made it sound so simple, but Brendan's mind went into a spin with the information that Steven had willingly went with Walker in order to save his sorry ass. Never in his entire life had anyone been willing to sacrifice anything for Brendan and the thought of it didn't fully compute with him. The notion that anyone would be willing to sacrifice themselves for him was completely abhorrent; he was not worthy of such devotion, his life did not warrant saving by one such as Steven. He found himself mute in the face of Steven's admission, unable to formulate a reply or a thankful statement, so sat there, strangely terrified and confused.

"You've protected me, Cheryl, anyone you thought needed it. It were time someone protected you." Steven whispered, his voice gaining a little strength with every word. "It's like you say, family is everything. Like, you're my family Bren, and I'll protect my family as much as you."

He wasn't sure what to say or do, this wasn't exactly a situation he had ever been in before. No one had ever really cared for him except Cheryl, and even they had been estranged at times. But here was someone who had been willing to lay their life down for him, for _him! _Yet he still did not understand why. He shifted painfully in the wheelchair, and reached out a trembling hand to take Steven's hand once more.

"I don't deserve yeh Steven." He smiled even as the tears filled in his eyes. "I don't deserve anything like this. It's time we faced the fact that I'm good fer no one."

Steven's hand curled around his, squeezing it tight while pulling it to rest on his chest.

"You only think that cause that's all you've ever been told, right? But I'm telling you the truth, you are proper worth it, you always have been." Steven held his hand on his chest and Brendan could feel his heart beating strongly beneath his fingers. "You think I'm worth it, it works both ways. No matter what, there's nothing we can't face together, nothing we can't beat."

Brendan looked up to see Steven smiling fondly at him, his baby blue eyes shining with a love he felt he did not deserve.

"I can't live without you Brendan Brady. When you're not with me, you're all I think about. When you disappear on me, right? I can't sleep for worrying. When you're with me, holding me, everything is as it should be and I can never be happier. You think I wont fight to keep hold of that? Of you?"

For the first time in his entire life, Brendan Brady felt truly wanted, needed and loved for what he was. He felt worth something and more human that he had ever been. He was more than just Seamus Brady's hated son, more than just another bad boy hated by the community. He finally saw himself through Steven's eyes and it felt as if he had just been reborn and the magnitude of it all stunned him.

"I don't deserve yeh Steven Hay." he said again, but this time it was without the self pity, it was a simple fact, stated in truth. "But yer still a soppy git."

"Yeah, but I'm your soppy git, in't ah?"

"Yeh sure are." He chuckled and looked to see Steven smiling down on him with that beaming smile that always made his heart beat faster.

"And you, are my hairy soulmate." Steven said, squeezing his hand tighter.

Brendan laughed despite the fact that it hurt to do so and removed his hand from Steven's grip. Holding onto the bed rail he pulled himself slowly into a standing position and leaned over until his face was right next to Steven's.

"Hairy soulmate?" He whispered to which Steven nodded. "Give yer hairy soulmate a damned kiss then."

Steven grinned as Brendan leaned his head forward and pressed his lips against that smiling mouth. They stared into each others eyes, drinking each other in while knowing that this was a kiss that neither of them thought they would ever share again, needing to see each other in order to believe it. Their mouths worked a long, slow, loving kiss that each wanted to go on forever. Steven raised his hand to place it against Brendan's face, as if wanting to feel that it was indeed Brendan and not a dream. At the same time, Brendan placed his hand behind Steven's head, holding him firmly, never wanting to let him go. Closing their eyes, they fell into a moment of pure connection so profound that it felt as if they were the only living things in the entire universe. It felt as if their hearts were beating as one and that their love was the only thing keeping the world spinning. It was not a kiss that aroused either of them, but it ignited a passion for each other deep within their hearts that burned so fiercely that they knew they would never be complete without each other, and that they could never be apart.

The kiss lingered on in Brendan's mind long after he had collapsed exhausted back into the wheelchair and long after he had been helped back into bed. It lingered as his tired eyes closed shortly after and helped him to fall contentedly into a deep sleep, knowing that no matter what, Steven would always be there for him, and that he would always be there for Steven.

_TBC..._

_Feed moi!_


	15. Chapter 15: The Lost Returned

_**I can only apologize for the time it has taken me to get this chapter written and uploaded. The steady stream of questioning emails and private messages are the reason I sat down this morning following my night shift and wrote this chapter, especially after it was pointed out that it had been two months since I last updated. I do have a reason, and it might be one that you might all like, although that is no excuse really! I am currently working on what I have called, a Super Secret Speshul Project for Brendanites and Stendanites, but I can't say any more about it lest I spoil the surprise. So if you are interested and want updated on this project, you can follow me on my Twitter TheDragon_ .**  
**You are all amazing, your words are what brought me back to Devil to try and finish this tale while working on the project. I can't thank you enough for the lovely reviews, they certainly compelled me to get back to writing! We are not at the ending quite yet, but I hope you enjoy this rather odd chapter. Thank you all! x  
**_

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_The wind howls around him, whipping the trees that he runs through into a frenzied dangerous dance around him. Their branches scratch and tear at his skin, snatching at his hair and clothes, but he continues to run towards the light ahead. He can hear Walker's voice, calling his name above the howling noise of the wind, but he has no idea where he is as his voice comes from all directions, so he keeps on running in the faint hope that he will escape. His feet are heavy and it feels as if he is running in slow motion through air thick as treacle but he dares not stop to rest as Walker means to kill him and he has left Brendan behind in order to save him; he can not stop. _

_Despite being glad of the light ahead, he has the uneasy feeling that it is not what it seems or what he hopes. It no longer looks like the sun through the forest as it seems to have changed to a more artificial light, tinged with the strange colour that one sees with artificial, fluorescent lighting. It gets brighter the closer he approaches and the feeling of unease grows with every step. But Walker's voice is closer now and Steven would rather take the chance in the light than stay here in the darkness of this hateful forest. _

_He bursts from the trees at such a speed that he has to use all of his strength to stop as the ground before him comes to an abrupt end. Managing to stop on the very edge of the ground, he looks over and down to a strange staircase carved from the side of a cliff face that winds down to a clean hospital far floor below. Despite the bizarre sight, he has no time to think about it and starts to climb down the stairs, hearing Simon shout as he bursts from the edge of the forest behind him. As he descends, Steven nearly falls when the stairs begin to crumble beneath his feet and each step he takes threatens to pitch him down the ancient, deteriorating staircase to the floor far below. The going gets slower as the stairs crumble so quickly it is as if they are made from wet sand and he stops and turns to go back the way he came only to find that Simon is but a step away from him. He grabs Steven and pulls him into a tight and painful embrace, their faces mere millimeters apart and he growls menacingly._

"_Be seeing you Steven."_

_Simon holds him as the staircase crumbles until it is nothing but dust in the wind, and before the step they stand on disappears completely, Simon throws them both into the stairwell and sends them plummeting to the hard ground below. Steven's screams rent the air as Simon laughs and laughs and..._

His eyes flew open to see nothing but darkness, his heart hammered away in his chest as the sweat began to dry on his body. The nightmares continued and no matter how many times he has tried to tell himself it was normal to experience them, they still scared the hell out of him. Some nights they are so intense that he wakes screaming in the darkness as the last lingering images of Simon and his torture continue to haunt him. This was his second night back in his own home after being discharged from hospital yesterday morning. He had hoped that being in his own familiar surroundings might have helped him, but it was evident that was not the case.

He should have known little would change, in fact, he expected it to be much harder on him now. When the taxi had dropped him off and he approached the house, he had felt the loneliness and melancholy descend before he had even turned the keys in the door. The air in the house had been stale and even though the rooms were in darkness he did not open the curtains and just wandered around in the low light not sure what to do with himself, scared to go to sleep in case he suffered another nightmare. When he had finally given in, boredom swaying his decision, he had gone to bed with the hopes of sleeping at least a couple of hours but had woken at 02:44, a mere three hours after falling asleep. Tonight was no better, having only managed an hour and a half and his eyes felt sore and tender, his head aching and mind muddled.

He struggled to turn and sit up, pain flaring in his shoulder as he moved stiffly in the bed. The wound was healing quickly, but the joint and muscles of his shoulder would require a lot of work to bring it to anywhere near it's past usefulness. No matter how careful he was with it, it managed to draw the breath away from him every time he moved. Getting to his feet he padded softly into the bathroom where he splashed cold water on his face, allowing it to drip off the end of his nose and chin as he gripped the edge of the sink. Raising his eyes to look into the mirror, he gazed upon a face that he barely recognized as his own. The bruising had faded, merely a yellow coloration remained in parts of his skin. The cuts were healed or healing, but there were wounds that he felt would never heal, the psychological wounds; the invisible trauma where the nightmares he suffered originated. All of his wounds and pains were nothing compared to the mental anguish he was forced to suffer nightly and the fact that he had not had a decent nights sleep since the incident was starting to tell on him. The dark circles beneath his eyes grew darker every day and as he looked at himself, it was as if he was looking at a totally different person. He was gaunt, his eyes sunken and cheekbones a little too prominent beneath the skin. He had precious little weight to lose yet he was sure he was losing it; his appetite had all but disappeared along with his confidence and ability to sleep.

It was 04:15 and he knew he would not get back to sleep again so shuffled out to the lounge and eased himself gently down onto the old worn comfortable couch with a quiet groan. He felt aged; old and worn out well before his time. Even now, over three weeks after the incident with Walker and Jason, his joints ache when he walks, his back flares painfully often and intermittently for no real reason, the fall having compounded the injury he suffered in the crash at the wedding.

He sat there shivering in the darkness, not bothering to put on a light or the heating, seeing no point as he sat there alone. It had been hard to come home to an empty cold house, leaving Brendan back in the hospital. There was no one to comfort him, no one for him to really talk to. The children were still with Amy and would remain there for the foreseeable future, so he didn't even have their brightness to enjoy. Brendan was still too ill to come home and all Steven wished for as he sat there shivering, was to be held by him. God he missed him; his strong arms, his warmth, hell, even his ridiculous mustache. All he wanted was to be held and told that everything was going to be alright, but instead he sat on the old couch alone and cold. Waiting for the day to begin, his bottom lip trembled and he began to cry. Cradling himself he slumped to the side and lifted his stiff legs up until he lay on his side, burying his head into the cushion and letting his tears soak into the material. Even though his ordeal was long over, the aftermath continued to affect him and he could not see any light to his darkness. Closing his eyes he fell into an uneasy sleep as he shivered in the darkness, miserable and alone.

A knock on the door roused him from his uneasy sleep and he looked to the clock to find it was only 08:00 and he wondered who the hell was knocking his door so early in the morning. As he wiped the sleep from his eyes the door was knocked again, spurring him to get up while groaning at the stiffness in his body. He shuffled towards the door, rubbing the back of his head as a yawn widened his jaw. Cheryl's voice sounded through the door and he felt both irritated and glad at the same time. He loved her to bits and was glad to have a visitor, but he was currently in no mood for company.

"Ste open up, it's freezing out 'ere!"

He could actually hear her teeth chattering and he smiled as the bubbly blonde burst in when he unlocked the door.

"Morning love, brought yer a bagel and coffee."

"What're you doing here Cheryl?" He moaned as he wandered back into the living room, "I thought you were at the hospital."

"Well that's a warm welcome eh? Not even a morning or thanks? I'll tell yeh."

He smiled as he gingerly sat back onto the couch, ignoring the twinge in his shoulder.

"Jeez Ste, it's colder in here as it is out there!" Cheryl said as she switched the heating on then arranged herself on the couch beside him, handing him the shop bought coffee and rather sorry looking bagel. "So how are yeh love? Yeh don't look like yeh got much sleep."

He shook his head as he forced the sour coffee down his throat, grimacing as he rested the cup between his knees.

"I'm alright, I sleep enough."

"Yer not kidding me on Ste, you look like yeh haven't slept a wink." Her worried eyes looked over him with a wash of concern. "Are yeh still having the nightmares?"

He nodded his head, staring at the coffee cup while running his finger around the edge of the lid, not wanting to look at her in fear that he might burst into tears.

"I knew I should've stayed here with you. Ah Ste pet, yeh have ter tell someone about it. Yeh can't go on like this. "

He nodded again, feeling the beginnings of yet more tears that seemed to be ever present in his eyes these days. He knew he was depressed, knew he needed help, but he was too scared to show how badly he had been effected by what had happened to him and to Brendan. He was scared that if he opened up, he wouldn't stop and everything would pour out in an expletive filled monologue of misery and pain. Lifting the cup to his mouth he sipped again at the sour liquid, not really wanting it but it filled his mouth so that he would not need to speak. Cheryl, the every bubbly, ever talkative one was abnormally quiet as she sat there looking at him. Her eyes held a sadness that he had never seen in them before and he recognised a hurting soul akin to his own and sought to ease her pain. Straightening himself in the couch, he put on a false smile as he bent over to place the terrible coffee on the floor beside him.

"So what you got planned for today, eh?" He toyed with the bagel he knew he wouldn't eat. He didn't fool her, she merely shook her head as she swallowed down her own coffee, flicking her hair as she bent over and placed her cup on the floor.

"Ste love, yeh know that if you need too..."

He laughed derisively and shook his head.

"What? You'll be an ear for my moaning yeah? Don't think so Cheryl, you've got enough to be worrying about without me adding my stupid feelings into the mix."

Petting her lip she shook her head annoyed, bringing herself forward in the the seat until she sat on the very edge of the couch.

"Ste, with what ye've been through, yeh need ter talk. Yeh can't be bottling all that up love, it's not good fer yeh. Yeh just need ter look at A'r Bren to see what bottling things up does to a person. Speak ter me, I'm 'ere fer yeh."

He got to his feet angrily, pushing off from the couch in a painfully quick movement with the intent of leaving the room, irritated with Cheryl and her pushing of the issue. He managed a couple of steps before he stopped and stood there rooted to the spot, shaking as the emotions became to much to contain and warm tears began to flow freely down his cheeks as his breath hitched painfully in his chest. He felt Cheryl's hand gently touch his arm and turn him gently until he faced her as she stood there resolutely, open armed and concerned. He sobbed and fell into her warm embrace, suddenly filled with the need to be held. For a long time he cried into the soft warmth of her bright pink long mohair cardigan, drawing in deep breaths of her heavily perfumed familiar scent and just lost himself in a moment of despair, thankful for her presence after all. When the tears and the sobbing abated, they both sat down on the couch, Cheryl's arm around his shoulder and they sat together in silence for a long time, listening to the ticking of the clock on the wall until he finally found his voice again.

"Too much Cheryl, I've seen too much. I saw it all; the crash, the torture, Brendan..." She listened quietly, allowing him to say whatever words he felt able to, letting him purge himself even though her body was tense and every word was like a knife in her heart. "I've never known such fear. I mean, Terry used to hurt me and back then, it were as if I could never escape it and I had to endure it, and...it were nothing compared to...to Walker." The name fell from his mouth in a hoarse whisper that dripped with hatred and pain. He shook his head and looked at his fingers which he picked at nervously, digging his nails into lose skin and tugging at it til it tore. "He did things Cheryl, he did things that...well it made Terry look like an angel."

She pulled him tighter, not saying a word and Ste rambled on, unable to stop himself or hold back the feelings that came crushing though his defenses until he was suddenly spilling the secrets of his ordeal that he had never spoke of before.

"He used my face as a punch bag to get to Brendan, then forced Brendan to tell me things...he hurt us both to punish each other. And the drug, it were like a fire, a fire inside my body. It were like I were dying inside, proper dying and I don't fink I've ever been so scared. But the worst was watching..._everything_. Watching and hearing everything and not being able to do a damned thing about it." He did not need to elaborate, well aware that Cheryl knew what he meant and he felt little desire to recount the torture he had witnessed to the victims sister. "I dream of it all you know, not exactly as it was, more twisted and bizarre but really it is everything that happened, yeah? I can deal with the pain, deal with the fact I'm not the same as I was last month, but I can't deal with these nightmares. I really need sleep and can't get it."

She had been right, he did feel a little better for having spoken about the fears that had been with him day and night for almost a month. He heaved a heavy sigh and Cheryl shifted beside him until she could look at him while continuing to hold him.

"Yer a brave one Ste Hay, I tell yer that. There's nothing wrong with what yer going through love, pretty sure it's yer brain dealing wiv what happened ter yeh. It'll pass, given time. And yeh know I'm here fer yeh, and so is Doug, and Brendan, even Amy and the kids when they come back."

Hearing Brendan's name had made his stomach twist in knots within him, shame descending upon him as he thought of the man lying back in the hospital. Here he was crying over a few nightmares when Brendan had everything so much worse to deal with. He tried to sit up but Cheryl held him fast and so he leaned into her more, letting his body relax onto hers as his eyes welled up again.

"What about Brendan? What if, like, what if he dunt get back his eye sight and feeling?"

"He'll be fine love, yeh need to concentrate on yerself, Brendan will heal no matter if you twist yerself inside out or not."

He nodded slightly, his eyes feeling heavy and sore and he yawned wide and long in the comfort of Cheryl's embrace. It wasn't long until he had slowly drifted off into a peaceful sleep in which no nightmare dared raise its ugly head.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o

The sound of the front door being knocked woke Steven again, finding himself leaning on Cheryl as she herself snoozed, her arm still draped over his shoulder. He was so comfortable and relaxed that he didn't even want to move to answer the door, but whoever was there was determined to get an answer and so he gently removed Cheryl's arm and got stiffly to his feet. Cheryl moaned and her hand patted around herself as if searching to pull up a duvet, so Steven draped the throw from the couch over her and she settled again as he shook his head and smiled. He walked slowly to answer the door, his feet shuffling as his hips creaked from moving and he winced as his back popped painfully. The knocking sounded again and he pulled the door open briskly with a scowl on his face until he saw it was Doug and he softened a little as his eyes squinted against the bright light that flooded the doorway.

"Just wanted to make sure you were okay." Doug said before Steven could question why he was there.

"Come in but be quiet, Cheryl's sleeping on the couch." He said quietly while walking back through the hallway followed by a rather worried looking Doug.

"I was a little concerned when you didn't answer your phone so I thought I would come round and check on you." Doug said in a soft quiet voice as he followed Steven into the kitchen.

"Phone? It didn't ring." Steven said lifting his mobile from the worktop, only to look meekly back at Doug when he saw the missed calls and three text messages left on it. "Oh...sorreh. Didn't hear it."

"That's ok, as long as you are alright. Did Cheryl stay over with you?"

"Nah, she popped by about eight-ish, then we fell asleep. It was a good hours sleep, really needed it." He said as he rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"An hours sleep?" Doug laughed softly. "Ste, it's three in the afternoon, why do you think I've been so worried?"

Steven looked at him puzzled then walked quietly into the living room to look at the clock, shocked to see that Doug was telling the truth, not that he had really doubted him. "Like I say, needed it." he said when he returned, a small grin on his face. "You want a coffee?"

"Yeah." Doug fidgeted, he seemed a little nervous as he leaned on the worktop next to the fridge, but Steven didn't notice as he put the kettle on to boil. "How's Brendan?"

The sound of his name made Steven tense, suddenly feeling weighed down with the worry and fear that had lifted from him during sleep.

"Not sure, he were still quite poorly when I left, the nurse said he had a blood infection or something. I didn't really want to come home and leave him there, you know? But Cheryl's taking me in to see him later, really hoping he's better."

"Tell him I'm asking for him." Doug said.

"Yeah right, like he'll believe me." Steven sniggered. Despite everything they had been through, he and Doug had maintained a relatively close and friendly relationship. Even though Doug didn't feel the same bitterness towards Brendan as he once had, he and Steven often jibed each other playfully over their past situation and quarrels, it was how they had first coped with the situation and it had just become part of their way with each other after that.

"You do know that I've not harboured any bad feelings for Brendan for a long time now? He makes you happy and it is so obvious that he loves you very much, how can I hate him? We may not be the best of friends, but I wouldn't wish him ill."

"Yeah I know, course I do." As Steven looked at Doug, he could tell just by the fact he had not countered the jibe and had instead taken his words to heart that there was something bothering the man and he was sure that he had not just come round to check up on him. "So...you wanna tell me the real reason you've come round?"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on Doug, I know you too well, right? You're stood there bursting to say something that's bugging you." He said, folding his arms and jutting his head to the side sassily.

Doug looked toward the living room and the sleeping Cheryl before replying, becoming somewhat nervous as he looked back to Steven. "Can we talk somewhere else?" He asked, his eyebrows low and worried, his large and rather scared looking eyes making Steven begin to worry as he suggested they go out for a walk.

"You sure you're up to it?" Doug asked concernedly.

"It were my shoulder that got shot, not my legs. I can manage well enough."

He pulled on a jacket and followed Doug out into the fresh cool air, walking down the path at the side of the house. The going was slow, despite his bravado his legs were rather shaky and they only managed to the end of the path before he needed to rest.

"Right, tell me what's going on." Steven said as he lowered himself with a lot of help from Doug, down onto a large boulder at the start of the path. Taking in a deep breath, Doug sighed shakily as he got down on the paving stones beside him, whatever was on his mind clearly had him anxious and Steven began to wonder what could possibly upset him so much.

"Remember when you were in hospital? After the crash I mean and I told you that no one had visited you except me, Cheryl and the kids?" Steven nodded, unsure as to where this was going.

"I lied. Brendan also visited."

"I know, he told me. Is this what you've been all worrying over? God Doug, I thought it were something serious!"

"I'm not finished." He replied and Steven fell silent.

"You have to understand Ste, we were only just married and I thought I was losing you. My feelings were all over the place and the thought of losing you was unbearable. I watched Brendan there at the hospital, hurting so much for you and so badly wanting to be near you and it made me crazy with jealousy and anger...made me more than a little spiteful."

"Doug I dunno where this is all going, but this stuff is in the past innit? What's the point of bringing it up now?"

"Please, let me finish, Ste." Doug implored.

Steven couldn't help but stare at Doug, he had never seen him this serious before. Even when their relationship had been breaking down, Doug had never seemed so solemn.

"He haunted the hospital corridors and all he did was remind me that he could take you from me at any time; that if the crash didn't take you, then he would. I didn't think he had a right to be there, I found his worrying offensive; you were my husband! He was nothing! I think he knew how he was affecting me, and I believe that is why he stopped visiting when I was there and only came to see you when I wasn't around."

"How'd you know he came to see me if you weren't there?" he asked, puzzled.

Doug looked to the ground, his jaw clenching anxiously as he poked and pushed at stones on the ground between his legs.

"Doug, whatever it is, it's in the past, yeah? Say what's bothering you and get it over wiv."

Doug raised his head and stared at him, his eyes so wide and scared, beginning to well with tears. He fumbled around in his pocket, pulled something from it then reached out and took Steven's hand in his, placed the object into his palm then closed his fingers over it. Steven didn't dare look, scared to see what he might be holding, continuing to stare at Doug for some explanation.

"He gave it to you for strength and I took that strength away from you. For whatever reason I did it at the time, it was still wrong of me to do so. I kept trying to find the right time to tell you, waited for the right opportunity to give it back but it never came. Every day that passed made it harder to tell you, to the point that I persuaded myself that it didn't really matter. Brendan never mentioned it and I sure as hell wasn't about to. But I've always regretted taking it; it was a stupid spur of the moment action and I wished it never happened. Brendan wanted you to take strength from it, wanted you to remember him by it when he left. He had wrapped it around your hand, so that you would see it if and when, you woke up." Doug's tears had began to fall and he waited patiently for Steven to open his hand and look at what was in it, waiting for the backlash and anger that he was sure would follow.

Steven looked down at his closed hand, unwilling to open it. Doug's last words told Steven exactly what he was holding and despite an initial fleeting feeling of anger, he was overcome with a intensive wave of gratitude at the American's decision to chance their friendship in order to return a gift that was never his to have taken. He could see that Doug was steeling himself for an outburst and he flinched when Steven quickly leaned towards him. He sat rigid and bewildered when Steven's arms pulled him into a fierce hug that only ended when Doug reciprocated and hugged him back.

"I'm sorry I never told you, Ste, sorry I took it. So sorry I never gave it back, it was never mine to take."

"It dunt matter," He replied, wiping away his own fresh tears. "In a way I understand. I thought it were lost. Any time I asked Bren where it was he just shrugged. He always looked sad when I asked about it and I never knew why."

"After all that has happened recently, I knew it was time to give it back. I took it to the priest and had it blessed." Doug said awkwardly. "It probably already had been, it just...seemed like the right thing to do. I think Brendan needs it back. Who knows, maybe it will give him strength to come back home, he obviously thought it would give you the strength to pull through. I truly hope he gets better and who knows, maybe this will help."

Steven pulled himself upright and finally opened his hand wide, delighted to see Brendan's chain with the cross and ring glinting in the cold sunlight. He had never known about Brendan leaving it for him, doubted that Cheryl had even known. But he knew now and the fact that Brendan had been there for him while he had been in the coma, meant the world to Steven even many months after the fact. He needed Brendan to know that he knew and appreciated how much he had willed him back to health. He also needed to let Brendan know how much he willed him the strength to come home.

But as he sat there in the cool sun, he held the pendant between his finger and thumb and realised that this simple cross and ring was a symbol of them and their love. Brendan was the cross, strong yet forever sacrificing himself for the love and happiness of another, no matter how it might crucify his own happiness and wellbeing. He, Steven, was the ring. The one thing that grounded and protected Brendan, the one who was always there for him, infinitely patient and loving. The chain represented their love for each other, a love that held them together and carried them both through the good times and the bad, strong and unending.

As he allowed Doug to help him back to his feet, they made their way back into the house to make the coffee they had both forgotten about, and Steven slipped Brendan's chain and its symbolic pendant around his own neck. The simple feeling of its weight against his skin was enough to shatter the darkness he had been carrying for so long; he felt lighter and a little more confident than he had in a long time and as he stepped into the house and closed the door, Steven Hay really smiled happily for the first time in weeks.

_TBC..._

_I will review it again tomorrow as I am sure there are glaring mistakes that I just can't see. Have not slept since the few hours I managed on Sunday night, lucky I can string a sentence together! Feed me please! Feed the Dragon ;)_


	16. Chapter 16: Burning For Release

**_So I'm guessing that you would not expect another update so soon given the length of time it took to update the last chapter! But I fell into a writing roll and went with it, so managed to get this one all written up :D Again, just off a night shift and not slept, so please forgive any mistakes, I will sort them when I can._**  
**_Your reaction and comments to the last update were brilliant, I had not thought it to be my strongest chapter so I was expecting less than glowing feedback. I need to believe what you all say huh? (Yes my lovely babydoll, I'm going to start listening!) But on with the tale, and back to Brendan... x  
_**

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Rather than needing to sleep like he had in the early days after the incident, Brendan now found that he would fall asleep simply due to the monotonous boredom of the daily routine of the ward. Days melted together, nights passed in a blur and nothing changed with the exception of the staff on duty and the patients that surrounded him. The most exciting thing that had happened was when he was moved out of intensive care and into one of the medical wards. It had been entertaining for the fifteen minutes it had taken them to move him, then the tedium of ward life had quickly returned and he had settled back into the routine of cat napping between short periods of alertness filled with lethargic melancholy.

It had been shortly after the move that he had experienced a severely high fever that felt not unlike the fire that Walker's drug had burned within him, accompanied by long periods of disorientation and vomiting. Diagnosed with septicemia, he spent a few worrying days at the mercy of his fevered imagination as the antibiotics worked hard to rid his body of the infection. The images and dreams he endured in that febrile state were bizarre and horrendous, but most were forgotten within moments of waking and those particular ones stopped when his fever eventually broke.

Given his fragile state and ongoing problems, his stay in hospital was somewhat protracted. Brendan became the patient that everyone knew; the one who had been there longer than anyone else and the one the staff referred to by his first name, with exception of his doctor. It seemed like every day some well meaning person would smile at him as they passed his bed and say "You'll be next eh? Maybe tomorrow, all the best!" then disappear home into their family's continuing care.

They moved him into a side room when he had developed the sepsis and he remained there now, isolated and lonely, wanting nothing more than to go home. Being stuck in the hospital was not the thing that upset him most, nor the fact that he had been there so long. What he hated the most was the fact that for the past month he had been caught in a perpetual state of fear and worry and had become prone to the most paralyzing panic attacks. Walker's face still loomed in his nightmares but his nightmares were more frightening when they involved his current situation. In his dreams he could not run from Walker, he could only try and drag his useless body over the ground with one hand. Or he would suddenly find himself trying to fight off Walker one handed as the other hung uselessly at his side. But the nightmare that terrified him most of all was the one in which Walker would point and laugh at him hysterically until he looked down to discover that his right limbs were missing completely. Clearly his mind was combining the trauma with his worrying over his current condition, and despite knowing that, it didn't make the dreams any less frightening or any easier to suffer.

He had endured more painful, demeaning examinations and procedures than he thought were possible. He had spoken with many so called professional and yet he was still none the wiser as to whether his condition was permanent or not. No one held any definitive answers to his questions, no one could say if he would ever recover his eyesight or strength in his right side, they merely hit him with textbook responses and well practiced apologies.

Living in a constant state of despair was starting to wear him out and given that he still suffered terrible nightmares, he didn't even get a reprieve when asleep. It was driving him slowly insane, more surely than Walker's attempt to send him over the edge had. In an attempt to get back some kind of normalcy, he had asked Cheryl to bring him in loose clothing as he was tired of wearing the awful hospital gowns and wanted to lose the whole image of being a "patient", so he could now be found wearing jogging bottoms and t-shirts, allowing ease of movement and easy access for the medical staff for whenever they needed to take blood or take vital recordings. With the exception of the problems with his limbs and eye, he felt relatively well now and was able to move more freely than before, the stiffness in his body having dissipated with rest over the weeks. Like Steven, he occasionally felt a painful twinge when he moved wrong, but if he'd had his own way, he would have been discharged after the antibiotics finished treating his sepsis five days ago.

The only time that he truly felt relaxed and allowed himself to forget his worries was when Steven visited. Even though the lad still looked drawn and weak, Steven could still put a smile on Brendan's face whenever he entered his room. He often found that the closer it got to visiting time, the slower the clock hands turned; so excited he became at the thought of seeing Steven and hearing his voice. But he had spent most of today in an apathetic stupor and had failed to notice how time was passing, visiting times barely entering his thoughts.

He lay snoozing as the ward moved through its daily paces, the banality of which was lost on him as he dreamed of driving fast along a long country road, Steven at his side singing loudly and out of tune as usual. Then his right leg twitched and jumped, the muscles spasming and pulling him from the dream back into reality. It was something that happened more frequently in recent days, the muscles would suddenly start to jerk as if a nerve had been hit and caused his leg to react by shaking or jumping around. It was infuriating, especially as he was unable to control it. As the twitching died down he sighed and reached to pull up the covers as he suddenly felt the room was rather cold and he shivered when a voice startled him.

"Thought I'd let yeh sleep."

He whipped his head right round in order to see Steven, who was seated on the chair beside the bed, grinning like an idiot.

"Jesus Christ Steven, yeh know I can't see anything on this side!" The smile on Steven's face vanished and Brendan instantly regretted being so abrupt with him. "I'm sorry. I just can't get used to...this..." He gestured vaguely around his right eye then reached for Steven's hand. "I'm sorry." He repeated as Steven pushed out a petted lip, the cheery glint gone from his eyes.

"Sorreh, I keep forgetting." He replied as he looked down to his fingers that rubbed at Brendan's knuckles.

"C'mere." He pulled at Steven's hand until he stood up stiffly and leaned towards him, a small smile returning to his lips.

Every kiss was like the last, intense and meaningful and filled with need. Their brush with death had given them both a new appreciation for each other and each visit was met with a need to reaffirm their love and the fact they were alive to be able to. Steven's soft lips pressed against his own as he brushed his fingers into his soft blond hair and held him there, unwilling to break away from the moist warmth of Steven's mouth. Eventually they pulled apart with a sigh, bumping their foreheads together in a tender moment of closeness.

"Hey you." Steven said as he raised his hand to brush Brendan's cheek.

"Hey you." Brendan replied with a warm smile.

The sound of someone in the corridor clearing their throat and speaking to another person reminded them that they were not alone in the ward.

"So, how're you doing today?" Steven said as he broke away and walked around the bed to flop into the chair on the opposite side.

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Took a jog round the building earlier then popped round to the chip shop for some lunch." He joked, folding his arm across his chest in an unconscious but comforting gesture against the real meaning to Steven's question.

"Ahh yeah, I thought I smelled something well fishy when I came in like."

"Oi, I only had chips. If you smell anything fishy, it ain't coming from me." They both grinned until the moment of joviality passed and the atmosphere between them became somber.

"Seriously though, how are you?"

Brendan sighed and lowered his head to his chest as he pushed his bottom lip up into the top one, pushing out his lower jaw as he did so.

"Nothing has changed Steven if that's what yer asking."

"So, you didn't jog round the building then?"

Brendan chuckled quietly then looked towards Steven, wishing he could tell him something worthy of the look of hope in his eyes.

"Nope, I can't even walk to the door." He let out a long breath then pushed his head back into his pillow as his right leg began to twitch and shake.

"Dunt they know anything yet?" Steven asked as he tried to ignore the uncontrolled movement that Brendan was trying to hide by crossing his left leg over the shaking limb. "I thought they said the test from the MIR would be back today."

"MRI Steven, I wasn't scanned by a soviet space station." He grinned at the puzzled look on Steven's face, chuckling when he shook his head and stuck out his tongue. "They don't even know when I can get out of here never mind anything else." He replied miserably, pressing his left leg down hard on top of his right. "Anyway, how've _you_ been? Yer looking better than yesterday."

"Yeah I'm alright. Managed to sleep right through the night which were nice." He unzipped and removed his jacket, getting up to hang it on the back of the chair.

"What's that yeh've got on?" Brendan asked, catching sight of a silver chain around his neck.

"Eh, that aftershave Cheryl got me for Christmas." he replied as the phone in his pocket sounded a text alert. "Damn, meant to turn this thing off."

"I don't mean yer cologne Steven, I mean what yeh got on yer neck."

"Oh. Oh!" Steven leaned over the bed, a huge smile on his face. "I think you'll recognize it." He said as he pulled at the chain until the pendant popped out from under the neck of his T-shirt.

The sight of his old cross and chain dangling from Steven's graceful neck brought so many memories to his mind that it rendered him speechless. He simply stared at it as he reached forward and held the cross and ring in his fingers, wondering where the hell it had suddenly appeared from.

"Doug gave it to me." Steven said as if in reply to his thoughts. "He were dead sorreh he hadn't gave it me back sooner."

Brendan raised his eyes to look into Steven's as he let the pendant go and and placed his hand on his smooth neck.

"It suits yeh." Was all he said as he rubbed his thumb on the smooth skin.

Standing up, Steven raised his hip so that he sat slightly on the bed with the other leg supporting him on the floor.

"I know everything now Bren. Doug told me how you visited when I were in the coma and how he was angry at you being there. He never meant anything bad by taking it, it were just something that happened." He raised his hands and slipped the chain over his head then placed it over Brendan's, setting it back in its rightful place. "He said you needed it back, got it blessed and everything. He thinks it might give you the strength to come home, the same way it were meant to give me strength."

Brendan cocked his head to the side, his left hand raised to touch the familiar feeling of the pendant against his neck. "Douglas said all that did he?" He asked skeptically.

"Yeah, and he meant it an' all."

"Well I gave it to you, it's yours now." he went to slip it back off when Steven stopped him.

"You can give it me back when you're better."

Brendan shuffled in the bed and pulled himself forward, placing his left hand on Steven's shoulder and squeezing it.

"I think it's time you accepted what I've already began to, Steven. There isn't a cross, blessed or otherwise on this sweet Earth that'll fix me."

"No, there's still a chance Bren, it might still be alright! You can't give in now!"

"I'm not giving in Steven, I'm facing facts. I can't go on hoping that I'll wake up whole tomorrow when everything is pointing to the fact that it's never gonna happen."

"You know what?" He said eventually, "It doesn't matter. You can still see out your other eye, and you can walk with a stick or something. You're alive and I don't care if you've had a stroke or whatever, and neither should you." He moved painfully from the bed, wincing as his hip cracked loudly, the sound of which made Brendan grimace. "Think about it that way and it doesn't feel so bad! You're still you and I love you no matter what, yeah?"

Brendan wished with all of his heart that he could join Steven in his idealistic fantasies, but his heart was heavy as he thought about the practicalities of it all and he shook his head and pushed Steven away.

"Yeh don't get it Steven. I'm thirty two years of age but look and feel like I'm over seventy. I'm in pain almost constantly and can't sleep without dreaming that I'm dying. I can only manage teh walk in circles when I manage to stand up at all. Half the time I can't see where I'm going and everything on my right is nothing but a white haze. Me leg feels like it's no longer part of me and this?" He raised his right arm slightly, the cast still too heavy for the weakened limb. "This apparently might never heal properly! I can't grip things, I can't hold things long enough teh use them, hell, it took me over thirty minutes just to get dressed this morning. How's it gonna be when I get home, eh? Certainly not back teh fucking normal that's fer sure."

Steven's face reddened and Brendan knew that he had upset him by the way his bottom lip trembled. His heavily lashed eyelids fluttered as his eyes moistened and he turned away from Brendan to stare out of the window next to the bed.

"Steven, I can't go on believing things are gonna get better, it's not fair. But then, when has anything in my godforsaken life ever been fair?" He dropped his head down, no longer able to look upon Steven's shaking frame, knowing that even now, after everything, he caused the lad pain and suffering. His eyes burned with unshed tears and his nose began to run, making him sniff annoyingly until he managed to fetch a tissue from the top of the bedside cabinet. As he raised his head something slammed into him and he found himself caught in Steven's arms. He put his good arm around Steven's back and pulled him tighter, needing the calming comfort and closeness. His throat constricted and burned as Steven buried his head into his shoulder in an attempt to suppress a sob that shook them both.

They sat for a long time, holding each other as they both cried and discussed what had happened to them. They cried for each other, for the loss of their loves innocence, for the harm willed upon them that continued to cause them pain. They cried for the uncertainty of their futures and clung to each other in desperation against the world and what it might yet throw at them. They joined together in a much needed cathartic release of every frustration fear and pain that had clung to their very souls since the start of this entire incident, knowing that it was only in each other that they would find the understanding of what they had been through and so it was only in each other that they would find their redemption from the hell imposed upon them by Walker.

Brendan managed to calm and compose himself long before Steven was able to, becoming once again the strong one, the rock at the center of Steven's world. He whispered soft words, telling the lad that everything would be fine so long as they had each other and he realized that this was what Steven had been trying to say to him earlier; that no matter what was thrown at them, so long as they were together, they would be fine.

He pulled them both gently backwards until he lay against the pillows with Steven in his arm, waiting until he had managed to lift his stiff legs onto the bed and snuggle down into Brendan's chest, his face upturned and eyes closed, completely unabashed at the fact they were laying in a hospital side room. Steven had closed the door to the room when he had entered earlier, in order to allow Brendan to sleep on without interruption, not knowing that it would now shield their moment of growing intimacy from the many eyes in the ward. Brendan held him close, tenderly kissing his flushed cheek, tasting the saltiness of Steven's tears as he brushed his lips over his skin. His body reacted to a soft moan that sounded deep in Steven's throat and he found himself responding to the lads closeness in a way he had been unable to for a long time. He tried to move his pinned arm to better reach parts of Steven's face with his mouth and drew in a deep satisfied breath when Steven turned his head until their lips met, knowing that he too felt what Brendan was feeling.

"I love you yeh know." Steven whispered.

"I know." He replied before covering Steven's expectant mouth with his own.

Their soft lazy kisses soon intensified until they became a wild passionate crushing of lips as their need for one and other seemed to override everything else. Worries and pains disappeared from their minds as they turned their thoughts to a more basic human drive in which senses were painfully acute and every touch and movement only increased the intensity of their need for each other.

Steven repositioned himself until he was half draped over Brendan, still having mind enough to avoid the hurting and healing wounds, caressing and stroking the parts he knew would not hurt him. Brendan groaned softly as Steven's hand lightly brushed over his crotch before moving the hand back up to his chest and he felt Steven's lips turn up in a smile as he continued to kiss and suck and bite at his mouth and tongue as if he was starving and the only thing that would sate him was Brendan himself.

The rising hardness of Steven's desire pressed against Brendan's thigh, creating a warmth that spread though his own loins and he reveled in the longing that rose so quickly within him upon seeing that same need mirrored in Steven's half closed eyes. It had been so long since they had enjoyed the simple pleasure of each others bodies that they were both quickly aroused and breathless, not caring where they were or who might walk in.

Steven's wandering hand trailed back down over Brendan's stomach, sending exquisite shivers rippling through his abdomen and he moaned softly into Steven's moist mouth that continued to kiss him hungrily. The long fingers stroked down the front of his jogging bottoms before sneaking his hand over the waistband and smoothly down into the thick hair towards the heat and the firm solid mass which pulsed at his touch. A strangled moan sounded deep within Brendan when those fingers stroked the length of his proud member, spurring Steven to wrap his hand around its thickness as he massaged the skin on its underside with those long talented fingers before starting to slowly move his hand back and forth.

Brendan lay there and lost himself in the sensations and when Steven's hand began to move with increasing vigor, Brendan closed his eyes and leaned his head back into the pillow, giving himself up to the experience. Steven kissed and nibbled at his throat and neck, and his body responded to the lads loving ministrations by hardening painfully to the point that the sensations he experienced nearly made him cry out and he found himself biting his lower lip in order to keep quiet. When Steven's thumb slid over his glorious crown and rubbed his pre cum in lazy circles over the tip, it was all he could do not to let himself go and alert the entire ward to what was going on in this room.

Steven was as breathless as he was, his own arousal rubbing sensually against Brendan's thigh and he wished his good arm wasn't pinned so he might have at least been able to attempt to pleasure the lad.

But it was with at the worst possible timing that Brendan's right leg began to tremble and twitch with such violence that it distracted Steven and he pulled away only to break the spell and pull his hand from his pants, leaving Brendan gasping and cursing angrily into the air.

"I'm sorreh Bren, did I make it do that?"

"No, it's just another fucked up quirk of my new body." He complained with great annoyance as he pulled up the waist of his bottoms, his erection pressing painfully against the material.

Steven moved himself off the bed, unconvinced that he had not caused the spasm that drew pained grunts from Brendan's mouth. He bit the inside of his cheek as he watched the leg jerk and jump to the point that Brendan had to reach down to steady the damned thing, holding his knee tightly until the spasm slowly died down to a mere tremble.

"Stupid fucking thing." Brendan cursed then looked towards Steven whose silence was unbearable. "It wasn't anything you did Steven, I promise. It's been doing it for a few days now and driving me nuts."

Steven pushed his lips out in a cheeky pout and arced an eyebrow, his eyes filled with mischievousness mirth as he sat back down on the bed.

"Well, at least we know something that wasn't affected by the stroke eh?" He said sassily as he winked and dragged his eyes down then back up from Brendan's groin to stare at him.

Brendan burst out laughing and pushed Steven from the bed, the two of them giggling like kids who just had their first look a porno magazine.

"Depends on what stroke yer talking about Steven, yeh little git." They laughed until tears streamed down their faces and the worries of earlier were carried away on their laughter until they both quietened to a happy silence and Steven settled back down beside him. They lay there comfortably, enjoying a moment's peace in each others closeness as their sexual desire drained away leaving them both frustrated but happy. Steven draped his arm over Brendan's chest then pushed his head into his neck.

"Everything will be fine eh, Bren?"

"Course it will Steven." Brendan said, turning slightly to kiss his forehead. "You and me? We can take on the world if we need to."

There was a knock on the door and Steven sprang from the bed as the doctor opened the door with a smile. If she had seen anything untoward, she certainly didn't let on, her smile never faltered as she said hello and entered the room.

"What can I do yeh for Doctor. A pint of blood? Or a glass of vintage urine perhaps?" Brendan grinned when she rolled her eyes and placed her notes on the end of the bed.

"That won't be necessary Mr Brady, I've have word back of your MRI scan and blood work."

Brendan steeled himself for bad news and Steven sneaked up to stand beside him, one arm folded across his chest while he chewed on the nails of hand of the other.

"Alright then, hit me with it." He said, already resigned to hearing the worst.

"As you know, the CT scan we performed when you were first admitted appeared to show signs of a stroke following the actions of AG11. The MRI scan was carried out in order to validate what the initial scan showed and check for any changes that might have occurred since the initial injury. What the scan showed up was that the stroke was smaller than we first believed, in that it doesn't appear to have caused as much damage as first thought. There was a lesion present and close to the area of the stroke that appeared to make the stroke look larger than it really was."

"What does that mean, lesion?" Steven asked.

"It appears to be an old injury, and according to your notes Mr Brady, you have had more than a few knocks to the head that might have caused it. While it may sound bad, it is in itself merely scar tissue from an old head injury."

"But, does that mean he didn't have a stroke?"

"No I'm afraid he did, it just a little less damaging than initially believed. It has not changed since the first scan and it is my thoughts that with a lot of hard work and rehabilitation, you may regain some if not all of the function in your right side. That's not to say it will ever be perfect again, but the outlook is a little more optimistic than we first thought."

"That's well good innit!" Steven was grinning and Brendan couldn't help but finally raise a smile.

"And me eye?"

"We will send you to neuro-opthamology appointment to look into that if it doesn't get any better over the next few weeks."

"So what, I'm here for a while yet?"

"Well, you are stuck here until the pharmacy delivers your discharge medication, after that, you are free to go."

It took a few seconds to understand what she was saying and it took a thump on his shoulder from Steven to realise what she meant.

"Uh thanks, thank you! Yeah!" He grinned and turned to look at Steven who was grinning from ear to ear.

"You hear that Steven? I'm coming home!"

_TBC..._

_Feed moi puleese!_ :D


	17. Chapter 17: Memories Long

**_I apologize for not replying to comments this time round, as I was busy with the surprise project I was working on. But, I read every one of them. Especially one guest, who didn't leave a name regarding Ste. It had bothered me for some time and it has now been amended. They will know who I mean ;) Another guest asked questions that pertain to this penultimate chapter, I hope it answers them for you. Jason mentioned a film called The Circle in which Emmett starred, I have not seen it but I will seek it out :D And Meghan G, your comment made me smile so wide when I read it!_**  
**_The surprise project was finished and released a couple of days ago, and if you have not seen it, do a search on YouTube for Within Reach: An Animated Comic, it is all about Stendan ;) But since it is finished, I can come back to Devil. So here is chapter 17, and like I say, this is the penultimate chapter in this part of the tale, which doesn't end with The Devil Took His Time ;) Hope you enjoy!_**

* * *

Coming out of the hospital doors was like stepping off a plane in another country; the air was fresh and untainted by hospital smells, with a welcomed breeze and a bright if not cold sun in the cloudy sky. Steven pushed his wheelchair through the car park as Brendan closed his eyes and exhaled deeply, happy to smell something other than chemical cleaner for a change. Getting into the car had been a rather awkward affair, his still healing body didn't quite like being folded in order to get into the seat but he held his breath and dealt with it. It would probably have been easier to get into the front passenger seat, but he insisted on sitting in the rear of the car, so that he could stretch his legs out luxuriously across the foot wells, and so sat in an uncomfortable looking sideways position for the journey back home, but it suited him.

It was a pleasant enough journey even though every bump in the worn down road made his pains a little worse than usual, but he didn't complain; he was just happy to be free from the confines of that claustrophobic side bay in which he had spent over three weeks recuperating. As Cheryl drove the car, she and Steven sang what Brendan felt was the worst rendition of Billie Jo Spears' song Blanket On The Ground that he had ever heard and he groaned loudly as the car sped along. Loud and raucous, their choice of song didn't make it any easier to listen to; the high notes all fell flat every time and was followed by giggling laughter that filled the car with a warm feeling of happiness. As they continued to sing, Brendan laid his head against the headrest and watched the passing scenery through the window, glad to see the world still continued to turn when he had thought it had stopped and that his entire existence was one of only of pain crammed into a twelve by ten room.

The hospital wasn't far from home, but the roads were very busy. They had hit the rush hour traffic and he was forced to endure a second and third song before they were even near their destination, each song louder and even more out of tune than the first. The traffic was slow going, hampered by a large lorry which seemed unwilling or incapable of squeezing past any car on the road and took its time on its journey to wherever. He watched with irritation as the lorry pulled away and disappeared as they were caught at a set of traffic lights, and he shook his head and wondered how the lorry was suddenly able to move more quickly when faced with the prospect of sitting at a red light for a few minutes.

While they sat there, Brendan caught sight of a young dark haired boy sitting on a bike while waiting to cross the road with what was probably his sister sat next to him on a bright pink bicycle with stabilizers. The boy was chewing on something while the little girl pulled at the bright ribbons that hung from her handlebars, both in a little conversation as they patiently waited to cross the road.

It took his mind back to when he and Cheryl were that age and he smiled as he remembered the time Cheryl had come off a bike not dissimilar to the little girls and had hurt her elbow. How loud she had cried for such a tiny scratch; he had almost laughed at her but her large eyes, brimming with tears and so full of hurt, stopped him. Instead, he had pulled her to her feet and held her hand as he lowered his head and softly kissed the little red wound that had caused her to cry.

"Thanks Bren. All better now." She had smiled, wiping her eyes and getting back on her bike.

And here they were, many years later, their roles reversed. It was Cheryl that had held his hand and kissed his cheeks when he cried in pain and for Steven. It was Cheryl who had stroked his face when the fever burned through him and it was Cheryl that had held him when he could not hold himself. So no matter how out of tune or loudly she sang, he loved that silly blond girl more than he ever had.

The little boy and his sister crossed the road and disappeared down the street behind the car and Brendan smiled as the car began to move again. He was getting too soft in his old age and he shook his head as he moved the casted arm from his leg to ease discomfort.

"What're you smiling at, eh?" Cheryl asked as she peered at him from the rear view mirror.

"Yeh can still sing bum notes perfectly sis, you both are a perfect duo."

"Shurrup you! I'll have you know I was in school choir, I were a right good singer me!" Steven replied haughtily as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Was that when the deaf choirmaster taught there then?"

Steven squared his jaw and shook his head, pushing his lips out in an angry pout. "No."

"Ach am jesting Steven, you sing beautifully."

"Yeah?"

"No."

After a fraction of a second of silence, the car was filled with laughter and it wasn't long until they were parking the car in the street outside the house, home at last.

Everything happened in slow motion for him these days and he yearned for the day that his body got back to moving at a speed he was more accustomed to. Cheryl eased him back into the wheelchair then between her and Steven, they managed to get him and the chair into the house, but not without a little grunting and much exertion.

Once inside Cheryl put the wheelchair next to the couch and as Brendan managed to balance on one leg she turned him, easing him down into the old familiar comfort of the well worn couch. He sighed contentedly as she left to make tea while Steven took his bags into the room and sorted the contents.

He laid his head back and rested, drained from the journey home; any sort of exertion sapped the energy from his body so quickly these days that almost as soon as his head hit the back of the couch he was sleepy.

"How yeh doing there?" Cheryl asked as she handed him a fresh cup of tea then sat crossed legged on the floor and proceeded to dunk a biscuit into her own tea.

"Tired sis. You have no idea how constantly tired I am." He replied with a loud yawn.

"Ach it will pass soon enough now that yer home, eh? Your own comforts and surroundings will do yeh wonders." She smiled and took a bite from her soggy biscuit.

Brendan sipped on the warm sweet liquid and looked about the room. It was a little less depressing than the hospital, but only just. The curtains remained closed, dust had settled on every surface in the place and the air in the room was somewhat stale. If he could manage it, he would open the curtains and some windows and get some air in the place, but that wasn't happening any time soon. Dotted all around were toys, crayons and pieces of paper belonging to the kids but all that Brendan saw were obstacles for him to navigate or fall over. Continuing to sip on his tea, he sniggered when half a biscuit fell into Cheryl's tea, watching as she tried to fish it out with her fingers before it became saturated and broke up in the cup.

"I'm going into town in the morning if yer wanting me ter bring yeh back anything."

"Nah, not needing anything." He shook his head, "What're you going for?"

"Thought I'd do some shopping while picking Da up from the station."

He stared at her as he gulped down the tea that nearly choked him at the mention of his father. In an instant his heart was racing and he had to set the cup down on the arm of the couch so that she didn't see the shake of his hand.

"Where's he been?"

"I told yeh last week, he nipped back ter Dublin to tie some things up before coming back here fer good."

"I don't remember."

"Well, yeh weren't well eh? Says he can't wait teh see yeh."

"He said that did he? Brendan managed to say as Steven walked through and lifted his tea from the bunker in the kitchen.

"Yeah, obviously he's sorry he couldn't get to see yeh in the hospital, but he thought he might pop in tomorrow if yer up to it and see yeh."

"Who's that then?" Steven asked as he flopped down onto the couch next to Brendan.

"My Da, I'm picking him up from the station tomorrow."

Steven began coughing as he choked on the tea he had just gulped down, spraying the liquid down his front and soaking his t shirt as he held the mug high. Composing himself, he looked from Cheryl to Brendan with narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, where's he been like?"

"We've covered this Steven, he went home to finalize things so that he can settle here."

"Well he needn't think he's stepping foot in here." He said contemptuously. "Didn't even come to visit him at hospital or nothing."

"What the hells come over yeh love? It's my Da Ste, our Da! He wants to come see his son! He never visited 'cause he wasn't here to visit!" Cheryl looked at him with a hurt expression, not understanding why Steven was suddenly angry with Seamus.

"It's my house right? He wont be putting one foot through that door and that's the end of it."

"But Ste...?"

Steven was unrelenting and shook his head angrily as he got to his feet. Walking into the kitchen, he poured his unfinished tea down the sink and threw the cup in with a clatter.

"I'm not feeling too good, I'm off for a lie down." He said and stormed off to the bedroom, leaving Cheryl and Brendan to look after him in shock.

"What the hell was that all about?!" She asked Brendan who continued to stare at the place Steven had been standing seconds before.

"I...I've no idea. Maybe he's just tired Chez, you know how he gets when he's tired." He replied, trying to play down Steven's outburst.

"Yeah, cantankerous little git. I suppose he's done a lot today and he hasn't been sleeping well."

"He told me he was sleeping better." he replied turning back to face her. "Said he slept the whole night through last night."

Cheryl looked down at her cup and took a deep breath as she tapped the nail of her index finger on the porcelain. "Not right of me to disagree, but he hasn't been doing too well Bren. I've stayed over a few nights and I know that he wakens many times with nightmares, his mind just won't let him rest." She sipped some more of her rather textured tea and balked as a soaking blob caught on the back of her tongue. "Course he says he's alright, but I know he's not. I've heard him, shouting out when he does manage ter sleep. Gave me a helluva fright when he first did it. Ran into the room expecting god knows what only to find him asleep!"

Brendan considered this new information and sighed. He swallowed a last gulp of tea and handed the cup back to Cheryl. "He'll be alright in his own time Chez. What happened to him, to us, will take some time to get over."

She nodded her head and got to her feet, taking their cups and walking into the kitchen.

"Speaking of time, I got to get back to the flat. Nate said he would be home at six and that gone quarter past." She came back into the living room and stared at Brendan. "Do yeh need a hand or anything before I go?"

He shook his head, telling her that he was just going to snooze there for a bit. She kissed him on the forehead and squeezed his shoulder.

"Well, call me if yeh need anything, I'll be back over later on. And...tell Ste I'll sort something out with Da. Maybe with you home he will settle more, and I can go home to me own bed." She grinned as she flicked her hair. " A girl needs unbroken beauty sleep after all!"

She lifted her jacket and left, locking the front door behind her with the spare key, leaving Brendan alone with his thoughts. The look on Steven's face when Cheryl had mentioned their dad, had been one of furious hatred and Brendan had no idea what could have provoked such a strong reaction in the normally amicable man. Sure he had been a little frosty since he had sort of guessed at Seamus beating Brendan, but he had still remained civil enough as to facilitate some semblance of normality when in the presence of Seamus. Something tugged at his consciousness, but whatever it happened to be, it was so far out of his main stream of thought that he could not pull it out into the open to help him; a niggling feeling that there was something he should know but didn't quite remember. He mused over it for some time before his mind began to drift, none the wiser to what the mysterious memory that refused to be known could be.

He became drowsy but felt unable to sleep as his right arm had began to burn with pain, notifying him to the fact it was time for his medication. He took so many pills that he was sure he would make the noise of a baby rattle should he be shaken. He had some of the painkillers that the hospital had discharged him with in his pocket and he dry swallowed two with a grimace. Knowing that when they hit he would pass out cold, he welcomed some restful sleep after his increased movements of the day had caused his body to hurt that little bit more than usual. Closing his eyes he pressed his head deep into the cushion he placed behind his head, only to open them again when a sad sound reached his ears. It took him some time to work out what it was and his stomach clenched when he realised that what he could hear was sobbing. The pain in his arm and need for sleep was momentarily forgotten as he began to worry about Steven. Whatever the hell was wrong with the lad, it was tearing him up and Brendan wasn't going to sit around and let him suffer alone. A terrible panic entered his mind as he worried over the idea that perhaps Steven's outburst against Seamus and his quiet sobbing held a more sinister reason behind it.

Shuffling to the edge of the couch, Brendan pulled on the side with his good arm until he stooped in the lopsided posture he had developed since the stroke which made it that much harder to stand never mind walk. He prayed that the physiotherapy he had to attend would improve it though he didn't really hold out much hope.

There was little point in getting into the wheelchair as he was unable to propel himself in it; it was of the type with the small back wheels. He stood there getting some balance before testing the strength in his unpredictable right leg. It trembled slightly then became still and it held him well enough for him to believe that he might make it to the bedroom and to Steven. Placing his left foot forward, he awkwardly half dragged, half stepped and managed to get himself into an unsteady shuffling walk which saw him stumble and tilt over to the side, but he was determined to get to Steven and so struggled on. His right arm dangled heavily at his side, swinging back and forth with his movements, the rough cast catching on his jogging bottoms. He used his left hand to hold onto the wall to keep him upright and with gritted teeth he hauled his broken body through the hallway.

As he slowly approached the room he could hear sniffing and as Steven whispered a curse to the empty room, Brendan pushed the door open.

"Steven?"

"Shit Brendan!" Steven jumped off the bed and hastily made his way to Brendan's side, taking his arm and helping him to the bed. "What you playing at eh?"

Brendan could see his eyes were wet and red and though he wanted to ask him what was wrong, he felt it best just to get to the bed before he fell and took them both tumbling to the ground. He did his best not to lean on Steven too much, but as soon as he tried to move towards the bed he went twisting to the side as his right leg began to jump again. With a quick response and some luck, Steven managed to get him to the bed before he landed in a heap on the floor. They both fell heavily onto the bed which creaked in protest beneath them, Steven's arm trapped painfully under Brendan's body. They managed to extricate themselves and lay beside each other, staring at the ceiling and breathing hard. Eventually Brendan nudged Steven and opened out his arm, into which the lad wriggled until they were cuddled up together.

"What were you thinking walking through on your own? You could've really hurt yourself!" Steven admonished, his head raised and staring at Brendan incredulously.

"I heard you crying."

Steven's head dropped until his cheek laid on Brendan's chest and he lay there silently, unwilling to speak.

"Care to tell me what's wrong and what that was all about with Chez?"

He was met with more silence as Steven continued to ignore him. Brendan raised and lowered his shoulder to try and get him to speak or at least look at him, but Steven continued to lay there quietly, his fingers twisting around on the front of Brendan's T-shirt.

"What happened to the being there for each other Steven? Trusting each other and shit? Was that all just words?"

Steven sighed, turned onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows to look at him pensively. Brendan could see the unshed tears in his red eyes, glistening in the limited light of the room.

"Do you remember anything, like from when you were drugged? I mean, anything?"

"Some things, yeah, but not everything."

"What do you remember?"

Brendan couldn't understand why Steven was so interested in revisiting the horror of that night, but he could see by the unusual look in his eyes that there was a reason.

"Pain Steven, I remember lots and lots of pain." He shook his head. "Why?"

"Like, do you remember anything that...you said or I said or anything?"

Suddenly he didn't like where this was going and the niggling ghost of the memory earlier began to pull at his mind again. Frustration made him sigh heavily as tension began to build in his shoulders and neck.

"Jesus Steven, whatever it is just spit it out for God sake! I'll be grey before I figure it out!"

Steven stared at him a little longer before wriggling from the bed and he began to pace the floor as Brendan continued to lie in the comfort of the bed.

"Know how that Blue Fire was some kind of hypnotic thing, right? Well, Walker made us say things, like, that we wouldn't say normally."

"I remember you saying some things, but I don't remember saying anything myself. If it's bothering you that much, I have forgotten most of what you said anyway so don't worry."

Steven ran his fingers though his hair nervously as he bit his lower lip. His eyes darted around the room in every direction except towards him.

"Steven" He said softly, "Steven c'mere." Brendan motioned for him to sit back on the bed, patting the mattress beside him.

He flopped down all loose limbed like a rag doll and let out a long sigh. "I know Brendan, right. I know about your dad."

Brendan suddenly pushed against the mattress, managing to get himself into a sitting position while staring questioningly at Steven who had jumped back from him. An icy chill spread up his spine and neck as he looked at the wide scared eyes that stared at him from the man who was suddenly coiled as if ready to be flung across the room.

"I don't know what yer talking about."

Steven shook his head sadly and looked down to stare studiously at the patterns on the duvet cover.

"Brendan, you told me, I know."

Brendan didn't know where to look; he could feel his face burning as his stomach churned violently. Gripping the edge of the bed, he made to get out of it and the room as quickly as he could.

"I'm not discussing this Steven." He growled as he stood and immediately fell to the side, only catching himself with a hand to the wall.

"But Brendan, we have to talk about this!"

"No Steven, we don't." He was so angry that he tried to walk too quickly, making his right leg begin to vibrate beneath him, but he threw himself forward anyway. His blind right eye caused him to miscalculate where the door was and he crashed into it painfully. His right leg did not move quick enough and before he knew what was happening he was falling towards the floor. He felt Steven grab for him but he pushed his hands away as if they burned him, choosing the indignity of the fall rather than the well intentioned aid from his lover. He twisted as he fell and his back struck the hallway wall hard and he slid down it to hit the ground with a grunt. He sat there, leaning against the wall as his right leg jumped around, grimacing at the discomfort while desperately wanting to be anywhere but there. Steven tentatively sat down beside him but Brendan could not look at him and he turned away, holding onto his leg while forcing it to calm down. He was furious and mortified, shamed into an angry silence with the knowledge that Walker had somehow forced his darkest secret out of him. When he felt Steven place a hand on his shoulder, he shrugged it off with an unintentional growl that had the lad back off and sit quietly beside him. They both sat there in silence, neither wanting to be the first one to speak, both as scared as the other. When the spasm in his leg died down, so did Brendan's anger and he turned to look at Steven who quietly played with the laces in his trainers. His shoulders dropped as he watched him, seeing that the lad was more upset than he ought to be and it made him wonder exactly Walker had made fall from his lips that night.

"What did I say?" He whispered, unmoving.

Steven turned to look him, his eyes filled with tears, his cheeks flushed as his mouth whispered noiselessly, unable to actually speak now that he was able to. He let go of his untied laces and turned his body towards him, settling into an uncomfortable lean against the wall beside Brendan as he drew in a long breath.

"It were only a few words really, but they were enough."

"What did I say Steven?"

"You said that your dad abused you, and that you hadn't told anyone before."

_Please...da...don't..._

For an absurd moment, Brendan could only smile foolishly, as if the bluntness of the words had shocked the grin onto his face and burned it there permanently. Shaking his head, he reached for Steven, gently taking his hand in his and held it as he toyed with the slender fingers. The smile gradually disappeared to be replaced by a look of sadness that didn't even begin to show the level of despair he felt at that very moment. It took him some time to find his words and when he did they didn't choke him as badly as he thought they might, but he had trouble getting them over the lump in his throat that caused them to come out in a weak whisper.

He told Steven everything, much more than he had even told Ann. He told of the fear, the pain and the constant taunting that had haunted him from his early years. He told Steven of the intimate details, the fact this heart felt like it might burst when he heard his father walk the hallway at night. He told him about the feeling of those rough hands on his skin and the hot alcohol stinking breath on his neck. He cried when he spoke of his fear for Cheryl, and of how illogically thankful he would feel when the footsteps passed her door to his. He spoke of how he had whimpered and cried into the pillow as the days early light announced the end of another bitter night, and that despite how warm it might have made the day, it never once heated his soul. He shook when he told him of the teenage torment of when he matured from the boy to a man and yet the torment and abuse never stopped, it was his eternal nightmare.

The whole time he spoke, Steven never so much as uttered a noise, he simply sat there staring, occasionally lifting his hand to wipe the free flowing tears from his face. Brendan painted a clear picture of his childhood in the Brady house, and the trauma that had affected him all through his life. When he finished speaking he looked to the floor, drained and upset at having to divulge his tale of torturous woe, and more than a little surprised to find that he was actually crying. Not just crying in fact but sobbing uncontrollably as his entire frame shook. Three weeks and almost thirty years worth of pain and humiliation trickled down his face as he fought for breath, choking on the large lump in his throat and too scared to look at Steven.

If he had thought that Steven might rebuke him after being given the knowledge of his sorry childhood he was sorely mistaken, as the lad creeped closer then gently placed his arms around him, pulling him close and holding his shaking body while he wept. It surprised him this purge of emotions, it wasn't something that he had ever allowed himself to do, but he felt secure in Steven's arms and allowed it all to roll over him until all of the tears dried and left him with eyes that smarted and burned. The hallway had darkened as the day passed into late evening and still they sat there, taking comfort in each others arms as the magnitude of Brendan's past played vividly in their minds. They were no sooner rid of one devil, only for another one to emerge from the past and torment them and the prospect of Seamus Brady being around permanently left them both with a bitter taste in their mouths.

Eventually Steven shifted through cramped discomfort and drew them both back into the here and now, their heads a little clearer, their hearts a little heavier.

"So when he called me Stephanie, it weren't a joke? He were being nasty. And...oh..."

"Yeah, Brenda isn't a slip of the tongue either." Brendan replied with a soft croaking voice, knowing exactly what was running through Steven's mind.

"How did you put up with it for so long? Why did you never tell anyone?"

"It's not something that I like to share." He said simply, pulling Steven just a little closer as drowsiness descended over him.

"I know but, surely Cheryl knew?"

"I did my best to hide it from her, keep her innocent. Had I left, he might have went after her, so I stayed for her sake. It is the same reason I don't just punch the bastard, Cheryl just...she doesn't need to know Steven."

Steven nodded his head, not quite fully understanding the thinking behind it but he would keep this secret as long as Brendan wanted him to.

"I'm so tired." Brendan whispered, and indeed within seconds of saying it, he suddenly leaned so heavily against him that Steven was sure he had already fallen asleep. His head was drooping slowly and Steven shook him gently as a rush of pins and needles blossomed in his foot when he readjusted his leg. "Took me medication..."

"Oh Bren, let's get you to bed then, eh? An early night in your own bed, yeah?"

"My bed?...Our bed Steven." He whispered as Steven maneuvered himself from Brendan's heavy weight and got to his feet.

He knew there was no way he would get him to the bed on his own owing to the sedative effects of his medication so fetched the wheelchair and helped Brendan into it. He bundled him softly into the bed and covered him with the duvet before sitting on the edge beside him. A gentle snore purred from the already deeply sleeping man, and as Steven watched his eyes moving sluggishly beneath his eye lids, he saw just how very vulnerable the apparently strong Brendan Brady actually was. Reaching forward, he stroked a hand down Brendan's face, smiling as his cheek twitched at the touch, then he leaned forward and kissed him softly while his fingers brushed his hair.

"He'll never hurt you again Bren," he whispered, "I'll make sure he don't."

He lay himself down beside him, pulling himself close and placing a protective arm over Brendan's chest before quickly following him into the realms of sleep.

_To be concluded..._

_Feed the Dragon ;)_


	18. Chapter 18: Journeys End

_**Well here it is, the final chapter.**_  
_** I can't thank you all enough for the comments, they have driven me to complete this part of the tale. They really have blown me away and made me feel that perhaps I can actually write a not-half-bad story, something that I was not sure of. It has been a pleasure writing this tale for you all, and I am actually quite sad to see this part end. But everything comes to an end, if only for a short while. The boys have a long long way to go in their recovery, and not everything can be repaired or overcome overnight, but I hope that this chapter brings a satisfying conclusion to what has most definitely been helluva ride! Until the next time, enjoy and FEED THE DRAGON :D**_

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The ominous darkness of the room did little to ease Brendan's fear as he lay there with his eyes wide open, trying to figure out what it was that had hit him so hard in the face moments before. For a few seconds he could not understand why the ward was so dark and quiet until he remembered that he was back home at Steven's house. That knowledge only intensified his fear as he lay there wondering what it was in the darkness that had woken him with such a brutal shock. His tired mind threw up images of Simon Walker and although he knew that the man was dead, the mere memory of him was enough to set his nerves on edge. He lay very still, listening for any kind of noise when there was a movement followed by a quiet moan and a hand that hit him in his still healing ribs making him gasp and grit his teeth.

"Nnnn...Nnnnoooooo! Lea...leave him...Bre...Brendan...nnnh...no...uhhhh!" Again a fast moving hand thudded onto his head as the duvet was kicked from the bed and he quickly understood what was happening.

The darkness made it almost impossible to predict where Steven's flailing arm would land next and as he listened to the continuing shouts and noises emitting from the writhing man, he managed to finally grasp hold of Steven's arm before it hit him again. He held it gently but firmly as the lad continued to speak unintelligible words which were sporadically interspersed with the occasional grunt or shout as he continued to fight against whatever monster haunted his nightmare.

"Shhh, hey, hey! Steven!" He tried to hold him but the young man only struggled harder and cried out more loudly.

"Nnnh...nnno! Gerroff Simon!...Please!...uhhhhhhno...don't!"

"Steven...hey come on...shhh. It's okay...it's okay...shhh." Steven slowly began to quieten as the nightmare passed and Brendan pulled him closer while continuing to whisper soft comforting words, his heart breaking when Steven uttered a long drawn out pitiful whimper that deepened Brendan's concern.

Eventually Steven sighed and gradually relaxed back into a more restful sleep, unaware he had even uttered a sound. As silence filled the room once more, it brought with it a peaceful calm which should have lulled Brendan back to sleep, but he was now fully awake and lay there worrying over Steven's unseen scars that he had kept hidden almost too well. Knowing that the lad had carefully concealed the depth of his mental anguish from him for obvious reasons only deepened Brendan's sorrow; Steven was failing more profoundly than Cheryl had guessed.

Turning his head, Brendan buried his face in Steven's hair, deeply inhaling the fresh coconut scent of the lads favourite shampoo then sighed sadly. He couldn't help but think of what a sad sorry state they were both in. He had a body that no longer worked the way it once had and Steven now appeared to be more damaged and broken as Brendan had been all of his days. The thought of Steven continuing to suffer these terrible nightmares was gut wrenching and unbearable. He felt impotent and frustrated at the thought of it; Brendan could wipe away his tears and kiss away the pain, but he could no more stop Steven's nightmares than he could his own. Yet he could be there for him, stand by him and support him and he felt that perhaps out of any other person on the planet, he was probably the most qualified to help Steven deal with what he was going through. Having suffered unimaginable nightmares and torment through the years, perhaps his insight could help restore the young mans peace even if it did little to restore his own. Steven murmured in his sleep, interrupting his train of thought. The words were indiscernible, but he knew by the tone that it was merely a normal dream and not another nightmare that would send the lad into a terrified frenzy. Steven often spoke while he slept; it had frequently entertained Brendan on the nights that he could not find comfort in sleep, but what he had just heard did not entertain him. Time passed and he found that his own body was aching, crying out for its usual round of medication that helped to stave off most of the pain he now endured.

The bottle of painkillers was still in his pocket, but Steven continued to sleep soundly, cuddled up tightly against him and his arm was trapped beneath his heavy weight. It took him some time to release his arm, only to find that the bottle was empty. He let out an exasperated sigh, unhappy at the prospect of making his way into the kitchen to fetch the hospital discharge stock that Cheryl had placed on top of the fridge. Holding a breath so as not to groan, he stiffly sat upright and tried to ignore the cry from his ribcage and the burning in his arm. His pain was lessening overall every day, but he knew from experience that if he didn't at least take his painkillers on time, the pain would increase dramatically very quickly, indeed it already seemed to be a little more intense than usual.

If he could have crawled through to the kitchen he would have, feeling it would be a safer option than the dangerous walk that he had developed, but he knew it would be virtually impossible to do so with the cast on his arm and his weakness. Maneuvering his legs out of the bed he set his feet on the ground before standing up, feeling the heavy cast pull his weak arm down to swing at his side. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and was surprised to find that his right leg didn't automatically start to jump around like it was possessed, so he placed a little more pressure on it, pleased when it took the weight placed upon it more readily than it had before. Still employing the same tilted posture, he gradually made his way out of the room as quietly as he could and into the hallway which was much lighter than the bedroom had been. While he had thought it was the middle of the night, it had in fact gone past nine in the morning and it hit him that the darkness in the bedroom was caused by the blackout curtains that Steven had bought a few months ago. He and Steven had slept for over twelve hours; so it was little wonder that his body was crying out for pain relief.

As he entered the kitchen he could hear a key being put in the front door followed by the loud sound of a noisy carrier bag being scuffed against the wall as Cheryl let herself into the house.

"What're you doing here? Thought yeh were going into town?" He said in a low tone as Cheryl turned from the closing door.

"Jesus Christ Bren! "she cried shrilly, "You damn near gave me a heart attack then!"

"Fer fuck sake Chez keep it down, Steven's still asleep." Brendan replied in a hushed voice as he stiffly made his way to the fridge.

"Thought I'd make breakfast before I headed into town. Came over last night but yis were sleeping so went back home. You shouldn't be on yer feet Bren! What d'yeh think yer doing?"

"Recovering. Building strength. Getting back, on, my feet." He said sarcastically while pointing to his feet.

She shook her head and placed the carrier bag on the bunker then began to unpack its contents as he pulled down the bag of medication and rummaged around for the pain killers.

"So how did yeh sleep then?" She asked as she pulled the frying pan from the cupboard and put it onto the stove to heat.

"Not too bad actually. Much quieter than the hospital, that's fer sure." He replied as he threw two painkillers into his mouth and gulped them down with some water.

"And Steven? How did he sleep?"

"He slept fine until about an hour ago. Went a little crazy fighting something in his dream."

Cheryl sighed as she placed six fat sausages into the hot pan and proceeded to cook them. "Least he had some rest eh?" She turned the sausages then cracked some eggs in to cook beside them. "More than he has has recently anyway."

Brendan nodded his head then pushed off from the bunker and slowly shuffled himself into the living room to sit at the dining table, very aware that Cheryl was watching his every move. His right foot didn't move the way it was meant to and he teetered dangerously as his body tilted too much to the side before he caught himself just in time, cursing silently before slumping down into the chair.

"I don't think yeh should be up and around until ye've been seen by that physio Bren, you don't know what damage yeh might be doing ter yerself."

"I refuse to be defined by my disability Chez. If I can walk, I will. In fact, remember that walking stick I used to have? Bring it round fer me later, yeah?"

"Walking stick?" She shook her head exasperated as he pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and began searching the internet, ignoring the stern look she gave him. "It's sense yeh need, not a bloody walking stick."

"Chez, please. I just want teh get back to normal. Well, as normal as I can. Not just fer me, fer Steven."

The Sausages popped and banged, pulling her attention from him as she poked and turned them before putting on the kettle and buttering the freshly bought morning rolls.

"I'll bring yeh that stick on one condition."

"What's that then?" He asked with a groan, not taking his eyes from his mobile.

"Promise me ye'll not go out 'til yer seen by that physiotherapist Bren. Only use it in the house since you can't use the damned chair in here."

He nodded his head, more to appease her than in in any agreeance. She loaded a plate with two rolls and sausage, topped with runny fried eggs then made a cup of coffee to go with it. Placing them in front of him on the table, she turned to go back into the kitchen, only to be stopped by his hand on her arm.

"Thanks." He said, finally looking away from his mobile. "For everything."

"Ach that's what sisters are for Bren." she replied with a grin then went back into the kitchen to make hers and Steven's breakfast.

As he bit a huge bite from the roll, Brendan finally found what he had been looking for on his mobile and a small lop sided grin graced his lips as he chewed.

"Should I take Ste's in or should I get him up?" she asked as she placed two more rolls and sausage with runny egg on a plate.

"In a sec, c'mere a minute."

He handed her his mobile phone as she stopped beside him, her brows creased in confusion.

"What's this?"

"I want you ter book it when yer in town."

"What?" As she read the screen her right eyebrow arched higher and higher. "Ach come on now Bren, I don't think so."

Swallowing down a chunk sausage, he raised his head until he was staring at her.

"Chez, please. I'm asking yeh, don't make me beg yeh."

She burst out laughing then look at him as if he had sprouted a second head. "But...but how will yeh manage? How will yeh even be able ter?"

"Steven will be there, we'll manage fine."

"But this is fer tonight! What about da?"

"Fuck da! I'll see him when we get back. It's not like I've missed him this past month eh?"

Handing his phone back, Cheryl's nostrils flared as she shook her head angrily and walked back into the kitchen. He cursed under his breath as he took another massive bite from the roll, shaking his head as he stared angrily at the back of her head. Hearing a sniffle his shoulders dropped as he saw that she was crying. Throwing his the last of the roll back onto the plate, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pushed himself up from the table. His right leg protested but held and he hauled himself back into the kitchen to stand beside her, placing his hand onto her shoulder. She turned towards him, buried her face in his chest as she quietly cried, her arms dangling at her sides.

"I've never understood why you don't get on with da."

He brushed at her hair and sighed heavily, not willing to get into the deep and meaningful conversation that he knew she wanted, knowing that it was a conversation that they would have soon enough. Now that Steven was aware of his past, he knew that it was only a matter of time before he had to tell Cheryl about his forced sordid childhood. But that conversation wasn't going to happen today, neither he or she was ready for it. He pushed her back gently and placed his hand on her face, lifting her head until her moist eyes stared at him from beneath her heavy mascara thickened eyelashes.

"Look, me and da have never seen eye to eye, you know that. It's just how it goes some times. I promise you, when we get back, we will all go out fer dinner and have a good old family get together, eh? It's only fer a few days Chez. I need it. Steven needs it."

She closed her eyes and nodded as she lowered her head again, raising a hand to wipe her eyes.

"Promise?"

He smiled but it didn't reach his eyes or hold any warmth; the prospect of a family get together involving Seamus Brady made him sick to his stomach. "I promise. Just book this fer us, please."

"Alright love. On one condition though?"

"Jesus! You and your conditions." he moaned.

"Either Nate or I will drive yis." She raised her hand when he went to speak. "That's the condition, take it or leave it."

He lowered his head but kept his eyes trained on her, gauging whether it was worth arguing the point, deciding quickly by the look in her eyes that it wasn't.

"Okay, okay. But don't tell Ste, I want it to be a surprise."

He shuffled his way back into the living room, feeling drained from all the walking and aware that the medication was beginning to kick in, barely making it to the couch before his right leg began to tremble uncontrollably. Cheryl came in and turned on the television before sitting down beside him with her breakfast.

"I'll have mine first then waken Ste. He really needs this sleep and the sausages will keep warm fer a while."

The two chatted lightly for some time, waiting on Steven wakening. It was mainly Cheryl that did the talking, but Brendan nodded or grunted appropriately and answered her occasionally as the television droned on in the background.

"Hey, I've a great idea!" She exclaimed. "If one of us is going ter be driving yeh, we might as well make it a foursome, eh?" Cheryl was more than aware that she was pushing it with Brendan, but in her head it made more sense than the two of them struggling alone.

"No way Chez!" He replied annoyed, slapping a hand to his head when she beamed her best smile at him. "You're serious?!"

"Ach come on now! You know it makes sense and there's more than enough room for us all by the looks of it!"

"And what about da? There's no way..."

"Of course not! It'll just be me and Nate. Da will be fine here on his own for a few days."

He threw his head back onto the couch with a long groan as Cheryl continued to smile next to him, knowing before he did that he would agree. All she had to do was hit him with her best baby sister look and Brendan would give her the world.

"Okay, okay. On one, condition."

Cheryl giggled excitedly as she took a bite from her roll.

"Yeh let Steven and me do our own thing. We need time together away from things, and I don't want you or Nate popping up every time we sit down fer a talk. I mean it Chez."

She nodded emphatically, to which Brendan groaned again and rested his head back on the couch. He sighed, knowing that she had hijacked his plans so perfectly for herself, but he could never say no to her, same as he could never say no to Steven. Closing his eyes, it wasn't long before he felt the medication kicking in and gently pulling him towards a light sleep. He could hear Cheryl continuing to speak, unaware that he was already beginning to snooze, his mind began to wander into dream. He felt movement as Cheryl got up from the couch, then something was placed over him and he cracked opened his eyes to see Cheryl hunkered beside the couch while arranging a blanket around him.

"Remember, don't tell Ste." He whispered as he began to fall over.

"I'll not say a word, love. Get some rest and I will get Ste up, eh?"

The gentle snore that sounded from Brendan made her fall quiet and she leaned herself back until her bottom sat on the floor. Checking her watch, she noted that she didn't have to leave for another thirty minutes, so she just sat there listening to her brother snore and watching him sleep. For all that Brendan was still poorly, she knew that arguing with him about his plans was futile; her brother was never one to give up. He was as stubborn as their father, which she thought, was probably why the two men didn't get along. Even if she had said no to what Brendan had asked her to do, she knew that he would simply have found someone else to book it for him.

The idea of her and Nate joining them was not what Brendan thought. Yes there were times in the past that she had purposely hijacked his plans to get something for herself, but this time was different. Brendan would never admit just how very ill he still was, and she knew by the nights she had stayed over with Ste just how fucked up he was, so to let them both go away on their own so soon after being released from hospital would be dangerous and foolish. This way, she could be there if something happened. She and Nate would be able to help if problems arose and transport them should they need to leave in a hurry. She wasn't all selfish as some thought her to be. She loved her brother very much and would do anything for him, including giving up her weekend away to Paris with Nate, just so that she could let Brendan and Ste have their time together.

As she looked at her brother, she saw how terribly frail he had become lately. Yet in his frailty he was even more determined than she had ever seen him. It wasn't easy to watch him suffer and struggle, so thin and barely able to move himself. He was always the strong one, the one who she turned to lean on in times that she needed him. It was little wonder that she worried about him so much. But he was as independent and obstinate as he ever had been. The long weeks of recuperation after the incident at the holiday home was nothing in comparison to what he was going through now, yet he would get through it with the same grit and determination as he had before, she knew this without a doubt. And if a few days away with the love of his life made him happy, who was she to stop it?

Leaning forward, she snuggled the blanket more closely around his shoulders before getting up to go waken Steven.

Brendan would be alright, he always was.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o

After Cheryl had dropped Seamus at the flat, she returned to Steven's with Nate and they packed the car for the road trip. She had sworn him to secrecy about Paris, telling him that Brendan need never know what they had given up for him and Ste this weekend. Nate was only happy to spend time with Cheryl and if helping her brother and his lover kept them together, he was fine with that.

Heading out onto the road, they left Hollyoaks far behind as they embarked on a similar journey to that which Steven and Brendan had started almost four weeks previously. Nate drove the car while Cheryl sat in the front passengers seat declaring herself the DJ for the trip, something that had them all groaning as her idea of a good tune was not quite the same as everyone else's.

Steven tried his hardest to find out where they were headed and continually questioned Brendan, but he refused to tell him and wouldn't allow the others to spoil the surprise either. Although the back seat was spacious enough, Steven squashed himself up against Brendan for the journey. There was rarely a quiet moment as they drove north; there was the usual out of tune singing courtesy of Steven and Cheryl as well as chats and discussions about anything and everything.

They had only been on the road for little over an hour and although Nate was a good driver, he was a slow one and it was going to take them at least an extra hour to make it to their destination, Brendan thought. Early in the journey, when this became obvious, Brendan had laid his head back and closed his eyes in the hope of sleeping the long hours away, only to hear a gasp followed by a dismayed cry and the feeling of Steven pulling away from him abruptly. When he opened his eyes and looked around, he saw that they were coming up to the petrol station from which Steven had been abducted. What made matters worse was the fact that Nate was indicating to pull into the station and Brendan felt knots tighten in his stomach and chest, knowing that Steven would be feeling ten times worse than he.

"Chez," Brendan said as he kicked the back of her seat softly. "Chez no."

He didn't have to explain or say any more as she immediately knew without asking why he had said it. Turning to Nate she touched her hand to his knee and shook her head. Brendan could see Nate's eyebrows crease in confusion then his eyes opened wider and he nodded in apparent understanding, put off the indicator and continued past the petrol station without muttering a word.

Looking to Steven, Brendan could see that he was visibly trembling as he leaned heavily against the car door, his head resting on the window while refusing to acknowledge what was going through all of their minds. He had pulled his legs up and rested his feet on the seat, crushing himself into a tight shaking ball pressed against the door. Pretending that nothing was amiss, the overpowering silence and the fact that there were tears running lazily down his cheeks, were point enough that something was wrong with Steven. In the sixty odd miles that they had travelled up to that point, he had not once shut up or stopped singing, yet suddenly he was silently staring out of the window as if the others in the car did not exist.

He looked so small and young, like a terrified child looking out on a world that held no respite from the horrors in his mind as he watched it fly passed the window. Holding the door handle with a tight grip, Brendan was unsure whether the lad wanted to open the door to escape the car, or hold it closed against anything that might try to enter. Either way, the fact remained that Steven was currently reliving what happened that terrible night from weeks ago, and probably had Simon Walker's image and words dancing around in his head. Brendan began to wonder if he had made a mistake by arranging this trip. He worried that perhaps his instincts had been wrong and that taking Steven from familiar surroundings had not been a very good idea. He wondered if he had made things worse by organizing this hastily bought and paid for short holiday.

Leaning over a little, he reached out to take Steven's hand, but before he could clasp his hand around the lads, Steven had quickly turned from the window and pressed himself into Brendan's chest. He stayed there, quiet and unmoving for quite some time as Brendan played with his hair silently. He knew what Steven was doing, his ear pressed against Brendan's chest, his arm pulling himself tighter to him. He was listening to the comforting sound of Brendan's heartbeat. He had once told Brendan that it was the best sound in the world to him, the sound of the life pumping around his body. He often would lay draped over Brendan at night, drifting off to sleep listening to that heartbeat that gave him so much comfort. Brendan had told him that his heart beat only for him and this seemed to make the sound of his heart that little bit more special for Steven. So he knew that what Steven was doing was seeking reassurance in the one thing he knew could calm him down and eventually Steven did begin to calm as his body relaxed and his grip on Brendan loosened.

The heavy moments passed quickly into memory when Cheryl popped an upbeat if rather repetitive dance CD in the player, the distress of only moments ago soon forgotten and lost in the happy bouncing tune that burst loudly from the car speakers. As Brendan grumbled about the noise, Steven sat up and grinned.

"Ah! I love this! It's one of my faves!" He flashed those perfect teeth of his in that wide smile and it was almost impossible to see the sadness that had taken to living in those baby blue eyes. But Brendan could see it, and he hoped that perhaps this trip might take away some of that sadness, if not all.

The journey seemed to take forever, hours of driving that became long and tedious and hard to fill with any conversation. A journey that should have taken approximately four hours, had currently taken five and three quarter hours owing to Nate's slow driving and the frequent break stops. Steven had long ago guessed that they were heading to Scotland and guessed that they were going to Joel's flat like originally planned. Brendan neither confirmed or denied it and saw the disappointment plain on Steven's face despite his attempts to cover it. But as the signs for Glasgow petered out and were replaced with town names that Steven had never heard of, it became clear that they were going no where near Joel's flat. In fact, they didn't even seem to be heading towards any large town or city as they were now traveling rural roads that went on and on for miles with nothing but fields and cattle to see.

The quietness and movement of the car lulled Steven to sleep about thirty minutes before the arrived, his head resting on Brendan's shoulder and his soft breath blew across his face. Brendan was also beginning to get drowsy and quite sore owing to the fact they had not stopped in at least an hour. Nate had been willing to stop for Brendan's sake, but he had told Nate to carry on and try get to their destination quicker. As his eyes grew heavier and fluttered to close, Nate pulled on the indicator and slowed to turn onto yet another rural road.

"I think we are nearly there." He said as he straightened the car and continued driving.

Brendan looked up and out of the window, pleased to see that they were indeed reaching their destination as the road took a downward slant. He shook Steven as he wanted to see his reaction as they approached, knowing that the sight would be glorious in the current light. Steven moaned and opened his eyes then rubbed them hard with his hands like a child that had just woken from a nap.

"We there yet?" He asked through half open, sleep filled eyes.

Brendan nodded and pointed out the window towards what could only be described as an idyllic vista. They drove through beautiful countryside that was dotted with old houses and ruins, set in green hills with long flowing grass that went on for miles. Some rocky areas gave the place an ancient look and Brendan could almost imagine a mounted knight on his steed riding across the land. Ahead of them was a vast expanse filled with the sea, the evening sun glistening on its incessant rippling surface and it seemed to welcome them with its silent siren voice, beckoning them on towards it.

"This must be it." Nate said as he slowed the car to turn.

"Yeah, this is it." Brendan confirmed and pulled himself more upright.

The small cottage stood facing the sea, set in a hill which looked down on a rocky beach a few hundred yards away. The air was filled with a salty scent and Steven gasped as he got out of the car and looked around.

"Oh my god! This is the place!" He exclaimed then he ran round the car to help Brendan as Cheryl fetched his chair from the boot. "This is the place you were always on about, yeah? Lucy's Bay!"

"Luce Bay, Steven." Brendan smiled as he was lowered into the wheelchair and turned towards the view.

As Nate and Cheryl took their belongings into the cottage, Steven stood beside Brendan and looked down on the beach below. It had taken Nate that long to get them here, that the evening was heading towards night and the sun was already setting. The sky was filled with an immeasurable amount of colours ranging from the deepest blue to the brightest orange that coloured the soft swathes of clouds dotted across the horizon. The sun's diminishing glow was still bright enough as to set the sea on fire and they stood there and watched as the sun finally disappeared and night set in, bringing with it a cool chill pushed his chair inside the cottage as Cheryl unpacked the teabags and milk and set to making tea for everyone. The place was spacious, clean and bright, such a contrast to back home where Brendan knew the curtains remained closed and dust continued to gather. Nate found the heating and turned it on to heat the place up.

"So how did you know about this place?" Nate asked as took a mug of tea from Cheryl.

"I found it one day on the way to meet a friend in Glasgow. Got completely lost and thought fuck it and followed the road to see where it would take me. Come here whenever I need to relax and get away from things."

"Ach it's perfect Bren, It's really lovely!" Cheryl smiled as she handed him his tea.

The four of them relaxed and watched some television for a while, deciding to unpack in the morning. While it was nice to just sit and relax in front of the tv, both Steven and Brendan were yawning and bleary eyed within thirty minutes. It had been a long day and not the most restful for two still healing bodies, so they said their goodnights and left Cheryl and Nate curled up on the couch then retired to bed.

They had chosen the double room with the window that looked out over the sea and even when the light was turned off, there was enough ambient light to see with. Steven helped Brendan out of the chair and on to the bed where he began to undress, then he stripped off his own clothes and dove beneath the covers. The room was still a little cold as the newly turned on heaters was still trying to heat the room up and Steven shivered as he waited on Brendan. It took him took a little longer but once ready Brendan slipped beneath the duvet and smiled as Steven wriggled up beside him seeking warmth.

"It's right nice here, innit?" He said with chattering teeth.

"One of my favourite places to be." Brendan sighed as he pulled him closer and pushed the covers tighter around him.

"What made you think of it? I mean, you only just got out of hospital, I thought you would want to spend time at home."

"Well, you are my home Steven, so as long as we are together It doesn't matter where we are, I'll still be home."

"Awww!" Steven grinned and threw his arm over Brendan's chest, extracting a grunt of pain when he nudged his sore ribs.

They heard the others turn off the television and make their way to their own bedroom, located at the other end of the cottage. Peace fell over the place, and they could hear the quiet rush of the waves against the shore. Sleep began to tug at Brendan as he listened to Steven's steady breathing which turned into that purring snore that Brendan loved to hear so much as he fell asleep. For a while Brendan just listened to Steven's snoring and the soothing sound of the sea and wished that this could be their home, far away from the worries and hatred, and, of course, his father. They only had three days to enjoy here, yet it was a world away from their every day life and Brendan intended to keep it that way.

As he was about to fall asleep himself, Steven jerked at his side and he turned to look at him. In the dim light he could see Steven, his face cast in shadows and muted colour which only accentuated his beauty. His face was pulled into a grimace as his lips mouthed silently. Brendan watched, as he raised a hand and stretched it out as if pushing something. A whispered "no" left his mouth and Brendan gently shook him. Steven's arm dropped to the bed and he looked up with blinking eyes in which Brendan saw the nightmare fade.

"You ok?" He whispered.

Nodding his head, Steven traced circles on Brendan's chest with his finger and sighed.

"I love you Steven. You know that right?"

"Yeah, course I do! I love you too you know!"

"I mean, I will always love you, no matter what, stand by you when you need me. If you ever need me for anything, you need only ask."

Steven's eyes sparkled as sleep completely left them, a lopsided grin tweaking at his cheek and it made Brendan smile as he realized how lucky he was to have this young man as his lover.

"I know, and if you ever need anything, you only have to ask too."

"Well I'm asking now." Brendan smiled.

"What?" Steven asked, twisting onto his stomach and leaning up on his elbows. "What you needing?"

Brendan raised his hand and cupped Steven's face, his thumb gently rubbing his cheek.

"You."

Steven grinned and pulled himself closer to Brendan's face where he stopped just before their lips touched.

"You need me...to do what?" He asked with a low flirtatious voice as his large blue eyes stared deeply into his own.

"I need you to love me...and to let me love you." He whispered as he placed his hand behind Steven's head and pulled him in for a kiss.

When their lips met it was as if everything that had happened to them in the last few weeks melted away to become a ball of bad memories, momentarily pushed to the back of their minds. All they could acknowledge at this moment in time was the need that they had for each other, their mounting desire nearly driving them both insane.

Their kissing was long and passionate and Steven pulled himself onto Brendan, his leg slipping comfortably between his knees as he gently rested himself on Brendan's chest, while careful to not hurt him.

Brendan's fingers brushed Steven's face then traced down his jawline onto his neck, smoothing the skin down past his shoulders and over his spine until his hand squeezed teasingly at his backside. He kneaded the smooth skin as Steven bit at his lips, drawing in a delighted breath when he felt Steven snake his hand down passed his chest towards his groin.

He bit back a moan as Steven's hand massaged his rising desire with fervor, and he let out a laugh at the thought that Steven might pull it off, literally. But Steven silenced his laughter by covering his mouth with his lips and sucked the breath from him.

Had there been more light, Brendan would have seen more of the expression on the lads face and it would have stunned him. As Steven massaged him, his eyes were focused on Brendan's face, his eyebrows slightly creased in concentration and he chewed slightly at his bottom lip between kissing that mustache topped mouth. He was so focused and intent on loving Brendan that he hardly noticed when his lover took him in his hand and returned the favor so gratefully currently being received.

But Steven pulled himself from Brendan and nipped off the bed to rummage in one of their bags, only to return with a small tube.

"You came prepared? Like, you expected this?!" Brendan asked with a grin.

Steven ignored him as he pressed the tube into his hand and repositioned himself on the bed. He kissed at Brendan hungrily, biting his lips and tongue while teasing him with his fingers. He then began to move himself down his body, kissing and biting and nipping all the way down until Brendan thought he might yell out with the sensations just as his warm mouth slid over his rock hard cock. Biting back on a cry that threatened to waken the others, Brendan placed his hand on Steven's head as he sucked and licked at him, groaning when he felt his fingers tease his balls and beyond.

He felt as if the entire world had come to a standstill as Steven brought him so very close to climax before pulling away from him once more. He lay there panting and exhausted when Steven moved and straddled him, leaning over to kiss him again, leaving his pert backside open to the air. Never the one to miss an opportunity to play with it, Brendan slapped that perky butt before seeking out that place that drove the boy wild with lube slick fingers. Steven collapsed down onto his chest and groaned quietly as Brendan played around with that tight hole as if it was a doorway to heaven that he had to open. Then Steven reached down between them and took a firm grasp of Brendan and caressed his length before rubbing his thumb over his wet head.

"I love you Brendan Brady." he whispered in a hushed breath as Brendan's adventurous fingers pushed into him.

It was like coming home. Their lives, so normally dominated with a strong passion for each other, had been empty without it. To truly love and know a person was to abandon yourself to their body as they give you theirs and they had missed each other so much in these past weeks. Their pain was forgotten, occluded by the intense sensations that overpowered their senses and Brendan moaned quietly as Steven coated him in wetness before lowering himself down onto him, stretching painfully yet exquisitely around him. He watched as Steven straightened his back and began to move, rocking his hips and making his breath come in short sharp gasps as he rode the waves of pleasure that washed over them both in ecstasy. It was a picture of beauty that rode him that night, all sweat and writhing movement, bringing them both to the very edge. He reached up and caressed Steven as he continued to move atop him, his fingers finding the rough scar on his shoulder where he had taken a bullet to save Brendan's own life. Steven reached up and held his hand there, staring at him meaningfully through half closed eyes as they both moaned their way through the carnal dance.

It wasn't long before they both hit the point of no return, so long it had been since they enjoyed each others bodies that to last much longer was an impossibility. As Steven's body ground down onto his own in increasing movements, Brendan took hold of his cock and brought him to climax as he reached the heights himself. He could not help but moan aloud as Steven collapsed onto his chest, panting and soaking in sweat.

"I love you." He whispered between breaths as he rolled from Brendan to lay on his back, spreading his arms and legs out luxuriously.

"I love you too." He replied as Steven pulled himself together and cuddled up next to him.

As sleep took Steven moments after Brendan had pulled him closer, he himself was content simply to listen to the sea and Steven's breathing for a while. With the exception of one small twitching nightmare, Steven was too exhausted to dream and so Brendan felt safe enough to sleep when his eyes became too heavy to keep open. They slept the remainder of the night in each others arms, content and oblivious to all around them until the morning.

0o0o0o0o0o

"I dunt want to ever leave here." Steven said as he sat up on the stone wall that surrounded their part of the beach, watching Cheryl and Nate walking in the distance.

A solitary seagull called out as it flew above the sea and Brendan watched it until it disappeared in the distance. "Neither do I." He said eventually, turning to look at Steven who stared wistfully out across the sea.

"Like, the kids would love it here."

"Steven."

"We could play on the beach every day!"

"Steven."

"And we wouldn't have to worry about..."

"Steven. We have to go back."

Steven dropped his head as his shoulders drooped, his hands twisting in the overlong sleeves of his hoodie.

"I know."

"And I don't think Amy has any intentions of bringing the kids back any time soon."

"I know that too."

He jumped down from the wall and walked away, crunching broken shells beneath his feet. Brendan could only sit and watch as he sauntered away, unable to get the chair down there nor walk on the uneven ground. Steven had been like this all morning. It was their last day at the cottage and their impending return to Hollyoaks was playing on both their minds. While Brendan wished for nothing more than to stay here and live a life in peace with Steven, he knew it was nothing but a dream as their real lives beckoned them back to the daily dirge and worries that dogged their every day lives. But that was life and they were no different to any other person on this earth with their troubles and their fears. But they had something special that many did not. They had each others heart and soul and the desire to keep each other whole and alive in every second that they lived and breathed. So he knew that when they returned home, that they would be able to take on anything together. They would be able to make their stand against anything that anyone would throw at them, so long as they were together. For in their strong union came a strength that would help them stand against the world and they would prevail.

Steven ran back with a huge grin, bringing with him a pebble that he had found on the beach and thrust it before Brendan's face.

"Look at the colours in that! It's beautiful!" He said with a smile and a look of wondrous awe as he turned the pebble in his fingers.

The pebble consisted of blues and oranges, purples and browns, interspersed with glittering quartz that glistened in the suns light. As Steven turned it in his fingers Brendan reached forward and closed his hand around it and Steven's hand.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you." He said, pulling Steven closer to kiss his open mouth.

Whatever melancholy had struck the lad, left him with that kiss as he looked deeply into Brendan's eyes. They spent the rest of the day together, side by side, whether slowly walking or with Steven pushing his chair when he felt too tired to walk. Everything was so perfect, and nothing could ruin their happiness that day.

But back in Hollyoaks there was another devil still to be exorcized from their lives, and their strength would be tested to its very limits. Only they didn't quite know how huge the battle would be, they only knew that the devil himself existed. And while Nate drove them back home, they did not even begin to realise that their lives were about to be changed, forever.

_The end...for now... :D Thanks for reading and commenting! :D_


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